


Nothing More

by whythehellisbucky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Eventual Romance, F/M, Grumpy Bucky Barnes, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mentions of Cancer, Past Domestic Violence, Slow Burn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 65,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29481765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whythehellisbucky/pseuds/whythehellisbucky
Summary: Bucky Barnes just wants to go on a walk by himself in his town on his own terms. But when a scuffle breaks out mere feet from him he gets thrown into the fight and out of the shadows. Everyone else in his life seems convinced that this girl is perfect from him, but he’s gonna need a little more convincing.Taciturn (crabby) and stern (grumpy) and something (else) Bucky meets a bold (reckless) and convivial (pain in the ass) and fun loving (disruptive) woman. Fate in the form of the avengers anthropomorphizes its way through Bucky’s life until, well you’ll have to read to find out.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Got no time to waste on another pretty face

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my third story! I really appreciate your support! Also the title of this chapter is a lyric from Daft Pretty Boys by Bad Suns. I listened to it a hundred times back in 2016 when I first started writing this lol. It’s pretty much the theme song for this story, so give it a listen if you feel like it!
> 
> On a more serious note please read this before continuing:  
> Reader isn’t named throughout this and I try to avoid using Y/N, but it might come up. However, I really wasn't sure if this is more of an original character than a reader insert. There are a few specific things about reader that will come up throughout even though they hopefully won't be too impactful of the plot. 
> 
> First and foremost reader has bipolar 2. When she is in a manic state she can experience hypersexuality which does come up but isn’t actively described as being hypersexuality. It also ties into some of her pretty dark and dramatic past which includes some domestic violence and illness and death of family members which is mostly just referenced briefly. 
> 
> Second is that Bucky finds reader incredibly attractive and so does the rest of the world. (No one has or ever will see me in that way but a girl can dream right?)
> 
> Finally reader is short mostly because I am short. 
> 
> I hope that none of these traits will prevent people from reading but I entirely understand if they do! I’ve tried to write reader from my own experiences and this is a really personal story to me but I don’t want it to come across as this is necessarily the way people with bipolar disorder are or this is how they act. This just one take on a disorder that affects a lot of people in a lot of different ways. I'm trying to not make it a huge part of plot, but it does impact the story and so I want people to know this beforehand.
> 
> All of this is fiction and therefore I don’t recommend or encourage anything that happens or doesn’t happen in this. I’m really just adding this information here to give people more of a heads up and to sort of explain why reader finds herself in certain situations at certain moments of her life. 
> 
> Thank you again! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided I wanted to post this so here goes nothing. I've got a ridiculous goal of finishing this before Falcon and Winter Soldier airs and I've got 30k words already, but we shall see :)
> 
> Another warning that this story is going to be pretty dark. There will be plenty of lighthearted fun, but also quite a bit of traumatic past/self discovery stuff. I'll probably be changing/adding more tags as I go, but I'll also try to put up warnings at the start of chapters when that stuff really starts. This first chapter is just random day dream stuff from a younger me.

_Tuesday, July 18, 2017._

It’s nearing midnight on a Tuesday evening and Bucky is out on the town. Not in the way he used to, but just out wandering. The summer humidity of New York City is familiar even if the buildings are not. It’s considerably cooler in the evenings though, and that’s when he tends to get his steps in. It’s cooler, it’s quieter and it’s so much easier.

Steve doesn’t doubt Bucky’s truth, but he doesn’t exactly comfort him either these days. Bucky’s been out in the world for a few years now, but it’s nothing like he remembered it. This new world where everyone has a camera in their pocket and no better understanding of the dangers of the world, isn’t something he wants to be a part of.

No, Steve really has been a help and a relief, but Bucky is mostly left to fill in the pieces on his own. Not necessarily because Steve doesn’t want to be there for him but because he’s so impossibly busy these days. And so Bucky prefers to stick to the shadows and the moon, waiting for the world to forget his face. It’s been just over two years since he was accused of blowing up the UN, and Steve had handled that mess, albeit inelegantly, and yet Bucky still feels the target on his back.

Tony’s forgiven him to the best of his ability and although he refuses to be in the same room as him, Bucky understands. He doesn’t want to be in the same room as himself either. Stark had been more than magnanimous when he requested that they remain in the Tower. It was more so for Steve’s benefit and assistance than Bucky’s, but Bucky was still allowed to call Tower home. It sure doesn’t feel that way though.

So Bucky is out roaming like he does nearly every night in this ever growing, ever chattering city. The area is pretty safe considering a good portion of the Avengers lives just a couple of blocks away, but this won’t be Bucky’s first or last time breaking up a fight.

He hears it before he sees it just like always. He’s not in the mood for this, but the more he hears the more he knows he can’t just walk away. He jogs up to the scene and sure enough there’s a couple of kids picking on another kid. It’s three against one and they’re trying to get the smaller kid’s backpack. Not exactly an event requiring super strength, but Bucky gets involved.

He grabs the tallest one by his shirt collar and is shocked to see that it’s not a kid. This is a grown man, clearly down on his luck, but also clearly the antagonist. Bucky didn’t think he could get more annoyed at tonight, but he does. Not entirely at the situation, although adults committing (potentially armed) robbery is worse than kids bullying. No, Bucky is upset that his head is so out of it. He’s been having a hard time concentrating again lately and the second Steve catches wind of it, he’ll never let it go until Bucky’s gotten fifteen hundred brain scans. Again.

Bucky ignores the thought of medical evaluation and focuses on the man he is holding up in the air with his prosthetic. He throws the man to the ground and punches the second. The third runs away and the other two find their feet and follow him.

The victim is still on the ground and Bucky offers his hand, the real one. His hand is ignored as the victim stands on their own and Bucky really starts to think that those brain scans might be necessary. The person in front of him is not a kid, but an adult. She’s an adult and very, very beautiful. Her attractiveness is a verifiable fact, and she knows it. She knows he knows it.

“Thanks,” she says, pulling out earbuds that have apparently remained her ears during the scuffle. Bucky should probably get the brand name; Steve is always losing headphones and Bucky hates his music taste. Her backpack which was apparently the preferred item of her assailants remains on her shoulders although quite dusty.

“You didn’t scream?” Bucky hears himself ask. She takes out her phone and Bucky watches her read a few notifications and pause her music. She looks up at him and then down at herself. Her dark green sweatshirt is pretty dusty too.

“Guess not,” she shrugs and looks confused by the situation too. “Did that like actually happen?” Bucky’s not sure what to say. “Or did I just dream that up? Is this real or did I fall asleep at my desk again?”

“Ummm, you’re not dreaming.” Bucky refrains from adding I don’t think. He’s only about 80% that this isn’t some weird dream he’s having. “So are you okay?”

Her face flips from confusion to anger very quickly. She was not taking this lightly anymore. “The fuck? If this is real life then no! No, I am not okay!?! I just got attacked!” She calls a number on her phone, but it goes straight to voicemail.

He feels bad for her, but something about her tone makes him feel like the world’s biggest idiot. It’s a familiar feeling, but not one Bucky likes to feel. He feels himself get provoked in response. “Well sorry about that but a thank you would be nice right now.”

“Thanks douchebag,” she responds sarcastically. She moves farther into the shadows and Bucky resists the urge to grab her and pull her under the streetlight. He wants to be able to see her properly. There’s no way she’s actually this pretty.

“What the hell are you doing out here alone anyway?” She’s not further bothered by his tone, at least not the way he was upset by hers. He wants to see her angry; he wants to make her explode like she had so easily done to him. “Wearing this baggy old thing,” he gestures to her giant sweatshirt. It wouldn’t even fit him properly and yet she’s wearing it out in public.

Everything Bucky learned about fashion came from Sam, and he had never mentioned women wearing sweatshirts with the sleeves rolled up five times. Maybe Sam wasn’t the best with women’s fashion trends; he wasn’t that great with men’s fashion either. Although Sam had also been the one to show Bucky images of a woman dressed entirely in meat. Maybe that entire conversation had been Sam’s weird idea of a prank.

“No wonder you couldn’t defend yourself. You can’t even use your hands!” Now she’s pissed off. She puts her phone away and pushes her sleeves up so that Bucky can see her fist. Her nose wrinkles as she does so, and Bucky tries his best to ignore how fucking cute it looks like that.

“I can defend myself, you dick! I’ve got pepper spray!” She shows him a small bright pink plastic item and waves it menacingly. Bucky doesn’t get to bring up the fact that she didn’t get the chance to use it on her previous attackers because she keeps talking.

“And this is my favorite sweatshirt and so I’m gonna wear it whether you like it or not!” Again Bucky wants to butt in with the fact that he doesn’t give a damn about what she wears but he doesn’t get the chance. It’s probably better that way because the more he looks at her, the more he realizes that it would be a lie. He wants to see her in her favorite clothes, in his favorite clothes, in nothing at all.

“You pervert!” She yells, “I can tell what you’re thinking, and you better shut the fuck up.” Bucky doesn’t mention that he hasn’t said a word, but he does stop thinking about her and actually listens to what she’s saying. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten into him. Normally he’s overly respectful of women, but maybe the full moon is doing something to his testosterone.

“Ugh,” she sighs dramatically. “Eric told me it made me look huge so this way I won’t get mugged if I look like a guy! And I just texted him so he’s gonna be here soon and you better not get any more ideas you creep.”

Bucky doesn’t focus on this Eric and how he’s going to be here soon, which he honestly doubts. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” he informs her. “You can’t possibly look big! You’re five feet tall.”

“Five foot three actually and I’ll be going thank you,” she replies sharply as she turns and begins to walk away. This night is getting worse and worse. Bucky should’ve just stayed in bed.

“Wait up,” he says, “you can’t just leave now. You can’t keep walking alone. It’s late and dangerous.” She ignores his words and continues to storm off. Maybe it’s not that dangerous since they are within ten minutes of Avengers Tower, but she already nearly got mugged once, so theoretically anything could happen at this point.

He sighs and reaches for her to stop her. She curses in pain and curls into herself, looking afraid. Bucky stupidly studies her, trying to figure out what he did wrong. Obviously he was a strange man she didn’t know, and it was late at night, but he had saved her earlier. They had had a whole conversation there and he had barely touched her arm. Her arm.

Bucky curses in his mind for not seeing it earlier. Her left arm had remained still by her side since she had refused help standing. She now cradles said her arm to her chest and holds it there protectively. Bucky is shocked to see tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She’s in pain.

“Is it broken?” He asks her gently. They’re now under a streetlight and although it’s not quiet, they’re still alone save for the occasional car. Despite her being in pain he can’t help but notice that she really is as pretty as he originally thought. Even prettier probably.

“I don’t think so,” she whispers. “It would hurt a lot more if it was broken right?” Her voice is quiet and so unlike how she had been earlier.

He instantly feels terrible. “You should go to the hospital. I’ll walk you there.” She doesn’t say anything, but Bucky can tell that she doesn’t see that as an option. Maybe she can’t afford it. Maybe she’s scared of doctors. Whatever it is, Bucky’s not sure she’s got an option if her arm really is broken. “Urgent Care?” He suggests, but she’s not going for that either.

“I’m not in the mood to wait five hours for a doctor to give me a sling,” she tells him. She slowly brings her arm back down to her side. “I think it’s just a sprained wrist anyway.”

Bucky isn’t believing it. “Let me call my friend. He’ll know what to do. I can take you to the med bay I guess too. Or pay for your treatment.” She’s impatient to wait for any of this. Her foot is tapping ferociously, and she starts to pace up and down the sidewalk.

“No offense dude but you don’t look like you can afford it. Also med bay? Who the hell are you?” Fuck he shouldn’t have said that. At least she doesn’t seem to be making the connection herself. She’s still tapping away on her phone with her other arm hanging limp.

He ignores her questions and pulls out his own phone. He’s got less than ten contacts, but he still has a hard time deciding who he should call. He ends up calling Steve, who he hopes will be more discreet than Sam and less ominous than Natasha. 

The phone rings twice and then Steve picks up, sounding a bit put off. Bucky ignores whatever Steve wants to say, not interested in apologies or explanations and tells him he needs help. Steve goes silent at that and Bucky tells him his location before hanging up.

She was definitely eavesdropping on the conversation, but Bucky’s pretty sure he didn’t even say Steve’s name. She stares at him waiting for him to say something, but he’s quiet. She makes a strange face that he doesn’t quite understand. “Okay, um thanks again, but I’m out of here.” She does an awkward wave goodbye and starts to walk away again.

Bucky’s really getting sick of this. “No you can’t go now I just called my friend for help for you.” He wants to add you’re welcome, but he’s glad he doesn’t when she responds.

“Yeah, no thanks. I don’t think I could take you down in a fight but if another one of you shows up I’m definitely toast.” Does she know who he is? Doesn’t she know he’s not here to hurt her? He’s still not sure. Why can’t she just be more straightforward?

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m trying to help,” he reminds her impatiently.

“Yeah well just because you did a good deed doesn’t mean your friend isn’t some dirty psychopath.” Bucky groans. How is he going to get out of this now. She’s got a good point. She hopefully knows now that Bucky isn’t going to do anything to hurt her, but she has no idea who’s about to show up.

“Would it help if I told you it’s Steve Rogers coming? Captain America?” The words tumble out of his mouth on auto pilot.

“Yeah no. Now I just know that you’re insane. Bye.” Fuck everything. Of course she wouldn’t believe him. 

She walks away but Bucky jogs up to her and stands in front of her. “I’m not kidding, okay?” She does not believe him, and he doesn’t blame her. He knows he looks like a complete mess. Maybe he really should’ve gotten that haircut like Sam and Nat suggested. “And please stay here. I know you’re scared and don’t want to walk home alone so call someone and we’ll see whose friend gets here first.”

She sighs and checks her phone. Bucky can see that she hasn’t gotten any new notifications. Whoever she texted and called earlier hasn’t responded. “Fine I’ll call Eric.” She doesn’t tap anything on her phone, just stands there staring at it.

“Who’s Eric? Your boyfriend?” Bucky hates the way he sounds, but he can’t do anything about it now. She looks up at him and then back down at her phone. 

“No he’s a friend from work who offered to walk me home today actually.” Her voice is bitter, and Bucky gets the feeling that it’s not just because of her not taking him up on his offer.

“Why didn’t you accept that much needed offer?” He sounds crueler than he means to, but she doesn’t falter. Why is this girl riling him up so much?

“I didn’t know it was going to be needed, asshole. Besides I was working late, and he wasn’t and well Eric’s a bit of a jerk. Kind of like you.”

“How so.” Bucky’s not entirely sure if he means for it to sarcastic or rhetorical or if he genuinely wants an answer. He’s not sure where his brain is right now. Maybe those years with Hydra are finally starting to take their toll on his brain.

“Never mind. Doesn’t matter. If I call him will you leave me alone? I promise I won’t need saving anymore.” Her voice is sarcastic and he’s not sure what to say to that, but thankfully she directs her attention back to her phone and walks away.

Bucky gives her privacy, but he can still overhear some of the conversation even if he’s not trying to. The call doesn’t take very long, and Bucky doesn’t need his sensitive ears to know that Eric’s not coming.

“He’s drunk,” she tells him. Bucky nods in response. He wonders if he himself has managed to get completely wasted. He’s not sure he wants to remember this in the morning. “He’s a drunk stupid asshole.” Too bad Bucky can’t seem to get drunk anymore. It makes him just a stupid asshole.

“So he’s not coming,” Bucky sounds even more like a jerk, but at this point he’s not sure if he can help it. Something about her or this location or this night is just making him like this. It’s definitely way far out of his control. Nope, there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

“No,” she agrees, “he’s not coming so I’ll uh, see ya later.” She gives him a quick wave with her good hand and walks away. She has to know by now that there’s no point in doing so.

She only makes it a few more steps before Bucky jogs up to her. “That wasn’t the deal,” he tells her.

She ignores him. “I can walk home now it’s not too much farther to the metro. Bucky’s never taken the metro, but he’s not ready to vouch for her safety there either. Thankfully, she remains next to him in accordance with a deal that they had never properly made.

“Well I guess my person is coming first then.” Bucky’s getting more and more awkward with time. Sam’s totally right about that.

“Your person doesn’t know who the hell you are, so I hope whoever you actually called is a doctor.” She pauses to look up at him and she appears able to read his mind. “No, Captain America is not coming here you psycho.” She shakes her head, but it seems to be mostly in amusement than annoyance. He wishes he knew what she was thinking right now.

“Just wait for Steve okay, he’s coming now.” And just like that a motorcycle pulls up to them. For once Bucky’s timing is impeccable. A tall muscular man steps off of it and she is shocked.

“Holy shit,” she breathes out. She can’t seem to find the words, so Bucky finds them for her.

“My friend, Captain America.” Steve nods her head at her politely and then gives Bucky a long stare. Maybe Bucky didn’t think this one through all the way. Bucky gestures for Steve and him to talk in private and she immediately moves closer to inspect the motorcycle, eyes still wide.

“You brought the motorcycle you idiot?” Bucky whispers to him, but he gets the feeling it’s unnecessary. She’s admiring the bike and Bucky figures she couldn’t be distracted unless Steve took off his shirt. Stupid Steve and his stupid need to wear tight shirts that showed off his stupid muscles. His stupid arms, both of them she had so clearly admired.

“Well I was in the middle of a movie. I wasn’t really thinking.” Steve’s not as annoyed as Bucky thought he’s be. It’s worse. Steve is curious. “What’s going on?” Bucky gives as brief of an explanation as possible, ending with her possibly broken arm.

Steve doesn’t ask further questions, instead he directs his attention to the woman who is now sitting on his bike. “Hi, I’m Steve,” he tells her, and Bucky fucking hates how stupid he is. Step one is to introduce yourself and Bucky had blown right past that this whole time.

“I know,” she says, giving Steve a blinding smile. She gets off his bike and shakes his hand. She gives him her name in return, and they chat for a while about her arm and what happened. It’s the same story that Bucky told, but Steve is at least three times more interested when it’s coming from her.

Steve seems to have forgotten all about Bucky when he tells her to get on the motorcycle with him. Bucky feels like he must have melted in the heat for all the attention he’s receiving. She and Steve get on the bike and he’s asking her if she’s ever ridden before. She hasn’t and now Steve is gonna take that from her. Steve’s taking everything from everyone tonight.

Steve makes sure she’s holding on with her one good arm and he promises her that he won’t let her fall. Bucky could vomit at the cheesiness. Steve apologizes that there’s no helmet but she's still excited. Who wouldn’t be? Riding with Captain America on his bike? Every girl in America swoons at the thought. Bucky rolls his eyes at them as they prepare to zoom off.

At the last minute Steve seems to come to his senses and addresses Bucky. “Buck you can walk back right?” Great. Fucking great. Steve doesn’t even wait for his answer before riding off down the street with her pressed up against his back. Bucky could punch a wall. What a fucking idiot he is.

And so he walks alone back to the Tower. He could finish his walk and maybe get his brain back to its baseline state, but the truth is that he needs to know what’s going on. He needs to know what Steve is doing, what Steve is saying, and what she’s doing and saying in response. His walk turns into a jog and then a run and then back to walking as he approaches the Tower. He doesn’t need anyone to know how interested he is in the outcome of tonight.

He enters through the garage and sees that Steve’s bike is already parked. They are nowhere to be seen and so Bucky wanders inside and towards the med bay. Sure enough they are there, and Bucky hates what he sees. She’s taken off her backpack and is sitting up on the counter with Steve right there in front of her. He’s examining a cut on her face. The cut is superficial at worst and he knows Steve knows it’s nothing at all.

Bucky is pissed and suddenly it all clicks for him. Like an idiot who spent years and years feeling nothing at all, he’s not used to understanding what his feelings mean when they do appear. But this right here is jealousy, and he hates it.

Bucky enters the room, knocking on the door frame and loudly clearing his throat. Steve steps back and puts down the Neosporin looking sheepish. She only smiles at him. “Steve was gonna give me pain killers,” she tells him.

“And call the doctor,” Steve adds, moving even farther away from her. “You take off that sweatshirt so we can check out your arm and I’ll be right back,” he tells them. His eyes tell her everything’s gonna be okay and simultaneously tell Bucky to behave. Bucky rolls his eyes at Steve in return.

She tries to follow Steve’s instructions, but it’s not working. She’s struggling to move her arm and she’s afraid to hurt it worse. “Fucking hell,” she mutters after getting one arm out and sighing loudly. She looks exhausted, her face is paling, and her one arm is bruised, but Bucky’s not sure he’s seen anything more beautiful in all his life.

“Can I help you,” Bucky asks her. She surprisingly accepts and he works to slowly remove it from her without jostling her arm. He’s so concentrated on it he doesn’t notice that Steve has returned until Steve coughs unnaturally. Bucky looks at her and at the sweatshirt in his hands and he’s pretty sure he forgets how to function. He’s not sure of that since brain malfunction is the first to go, but he’s pretty sure that’s what happens.

She’s in a yellow blouse and he doesn’t ever remember liking the color yellow, but it looks so good on her. Maybe the fluorescent lighting in this room is doing something to his eyes. Steve tells them that the doctor is on the way and checks out her arm. It’s bruised badly but she isn’t concerned about that. She tells them she bruises easily, and Bucky watches Steve’s eyebrows raise slightly at this information.

Thankfully Steve doesn’t ask personal questions about how she typically gets bruised. No, he asks personal questions about her medical history. “Are you currently taking any medications?” Steve asks her and she just laughs at him.

“What’s next you’re gonna ask me how much I weigh?” Bucky sneaks a glance at Steve. He’s pretty sure that was Steve’s next question. After all he was about to administer pain relief. Steve doesn’t get a chance to hand out drugs because the doctor arrives, and introductions are made. Once again Bucky feels like the world’s biggest fool. He knows her name now, but he hasn’t told her who he is. But maybe she already knows.

“And this here is Bucky,” Steve’s telling it to Dr. Whomever, but her ears perk up at his name. He watches her lips repeat his name. His name in her mouth. God, he needs to get a life and a cold shower.

“The Winter Soldier,” the doctor says uneasily, looking over Bucky. Steve frowns but Bucky remains stoic. Her face displays an entirely different emotion: realization.

“Damn the Winter Soldier really is hot.” Bucky feels like he might pass out. “I knew you were hot before, but damn you look better in the light,” she adds making Bucky blush. Steve laughs at her forwardness. “It’s the eyes,” she says, “so blue in the light.” She’s staring into his eyes and Bucky has to turn away. He’s turning way too red for this conversation.

Bucky can’t find the words to display his thoughts on her knowing who he is because he doesn’t have any. No thoughts at all. Just the simple phrase ‘damn the Winter Soldier really is hot’ repeating in his brain for all eternity. He thinks he might be okay with that.

“So you do know who Bucky is,” Steve says filling the quiet space.

“Uh yeah you’re on the news kind of a lot,” she says, still staring at him. Bucky closes his eyes and busies himself with folding her sweatshirt.

He suddenly comes to another realization and immediately blurts out, “I didn’t blow up the UN.” The doctor is staring at him in a peculiar way that reminds Bucky exactly why he hates the fucking med bay and everything that happens in it.

“We know,” Steve tells him, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. It doesn’t change anything at all. The papers and TV stations all had to make retractions but yeah it doesn’t do much after the fact now does it.

“So I think it’s broken,” Steve tells the doctor, quickly trying to get things back on track.

“But you’re not even a doctor,” she tells him in a way that reminds Bucky that he missed out on a whole conversation between the two of them. Had she complimented Steve’s eyes as well? She must’ve.

“No, I’m not,” Steve agrees. “But I figured I’d let Dr. Rice know before he begins,” Steve tells her. Bucky’s pretty sure he hears her say Dr. America under her breath but there’s nothing logical he could say in response to that, so he says nothing.

The doctor examines her arm and then goes to ready an X-ray to see how bad the break is. Bucky and Steve leave to give her some privacy. The privacy’s not really real though. The med bay is made for some pretty traumatic injuries and a large picture window allows for anyone to see right in. There had been far too many superheroes pushing medical personal aside to see their loved ones, and this had been the best possible compromise.

They sit facing away from the window, but that doesn’t solve the privacy issue. They can still hear every word spoken. “Didn’t realize the Winter Solider’d be so handsome in person.” Bucky can hear her conversation with Dr. What’s His Name clear as day and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t trying to.

He sneaks a peek at her through the glass and she catches him and winks. Bucky’s surprised to see her turn slightly pink at the interaction, but it definitely pleases him. Steve’s elbow digs into his side, but thankfully Steve doesn’t say a word. Probably because he too is trying to eavesdrop on them. So much for virtue and honor.

The doctor finishes fixing her up and she calls them back inside. They had already heard the diagnosis, but they hear her explain that there was a clean break and she’ll just need to wear a sling for the next four to six weeks. Her eyes sparkle at the word sling as if it’s a private joke between the two of them instead of a complaint she made earlier.

She offers to pay but after looking in her wallet, she thinks better of it and asks if she can pay next week. “I’ve got a nasty credit card habit,” she admits unabashedly. “But I get paid next week, and I can pay it all then if that’s okay?” She sounds a bit nervous asking for a week to pay an amount that hasn’t been charged to her, but Bucky doesn’t blame her. If the Avengers Tower is intimidating then the Avengers med bay is overwhelming with all of its high tech equipment.

Bucky is silent waiting for Steve to tell her repeatedly that no, no its covered, no charge blah blah blah but much to his surprise Steve does not. “Sure that’s fine,” Steve tells her with a friendly smile. “Why don’t you give me your number and we can call you with the bill later.” She nods in agreement and Steve goes to find a pen and some paper.

Bucky’s stomach sinks to his feet as he realizes this is Steve’s plan to get her number. He feels weird about it, even if it does make logical sense. She’s gorgeous so of course his best friend is into her. They’d be good for each other too: both feisty and both a little reckless. Okay maybe not the best pairing but birds of a feather flock together?

Bucky’s only pretty sure that’s how the saying goes and he’s only pretty sure that something weird is going on here. Something in his monkey brain is telling him, ‘but you saw her first’ and as much as he knows that it’s just lust or hormones or the fact that he hasn’t been with a woman in decades, it feels weird to see Steve like this.

Steve hasn’t dated either, at least not that Bucky has noticed. Maybe Steve’s monkey brain is saying something similar to Steve. Maybe Steve’s monkey brain is saying ‘she’s here right now.’ Bucky feels like his monkey brain might have a better point, but it doesn’t matter because Steve is making the move right now, and he was the one to actually help her.

Besides he’s not some kid on the playground and she’s not some new toy he spotted first and got to claim. No, he’s a grown man and she’s a person. A female person. A gorgeous female person that he finds very attractive. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything at all.

Steve finds the paper and pen and she takes it in order to eagerly write her number down. Her number for Steve. Bucky sits back and watches Steve do his thing. Steve walks her out the door and wishes her goodnight. He gives her a kiss on the cheek, and she gives him a smile. She heads out in a cab and that’s that.

Bucky’s ready for sleep. Maybe he can wake up in another hundred years in a world where the women aren’t like this. Maybe he can wake in a world where Steve’s not better with girls than him. Maybe he can wake in a world where Steve’s not handing him a piece of paper.

Steve’s not one to gloat, but there’s apparently a first time for everything and it’s all happening tonight. Steve just laughs at his expression. It’s not a cruel laugh, but a Steve laugh and Bucky is just more confused. “It’s for you, you idiot.” Steve hands him the scrap again. “She’s totally your type. Just like all those girls you used to date back in the day.”

Bucky shakes his head no for three reasons:

1) This girl is nothing like the girls he used to date back in the day

2) There were no girls like that back in the day

3) And finally, the scrap of paper has an email. A fucking email.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Bucky kind of comes across as a huge asshole here, but I promise he won't be like that forever! He's just not used to feeling *feelings* anymore and she brings forth a lot of them. 
> 
> This story is going to be a little all over the place I think, but hopefully someone will read it and get something out of it (other than me that is). Thanks for reading <3
> 
> Also happy international women's day! May we move closer to gender equality!


	2. Cute with such conviction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this thing when I write where I just have to make myself alternate POVs with chapters. That just means some chapters are gonna be way longer than others and this one is on the shorter side. Sorry about that, but I hope you enjoy!

_Friday, July 21, 2017_

You were nervous about the note you had left for Bucky. Leaving an email address was a sassy enough move but it wasn’t just any old gmail account. It was a work email. A Stark Industries email. It’s only been a few days, but no bill has been sent to your inbox. Plenty of emails but nothing that appears to be from a Mr. James Buchannan Barnes.

Steve and you had talked the entire motorcycle ride back to the Tower and you spent most of that time laughing. Steve hadn’t said much, but it had meant a lot. Bucky was a bit lost in the world and you could relate. Steve was trying to move on and he himself was starting to date. Steve had been direct in asking you if you were interested (in the interest of time) and you didn’t need to think it over. You were definitely interested.

Steve had gone on and on about how he’d make sure you and Bucky would reconnect. Something you had originally been embarrassed about, but you figured you had been pretty damn obvious with the way you had stared at him. He was intimidating and rude and grumpy, but he had been something else as well. You were drawn to him and not just in the way you were drawn to the wrong type of guy. At least you hoped not.

You’re honestly starting to panic a little bit, overthinking the events of that godforsaken night. Did you spell your own goddamn email wrong? Was your handwriting so messy it was actually illegible? Has someone hacked into your email account, deleted the email, and now the Avengers themselves were going to come find you and attack you for not paying your medical bills?

Okay that was a bit extreme, after all it was literally a Stark Industries address, so they could’ve easily sent over your bill. Maybe they were just in the process of vetting you. Could they have found out that you are actually a hardened criminal or possibly a Hydra informant? No, if any of that had been true then they surely would have come after you by now.

It could really only mean that Steve Rogers was as merciful as the books say and he had handled your fees. The world and your bank account is all the better for it too, but there was still that nagging feeling that something was amiss. The idea that they had sent an email and were thinking that it was you who was ignoring them in order to not pay was too horrifying to let go. You were a lot of things but, whoever it is that doesn’t impulsively check the junk mail folder when waiting for an email isn’t one of them.

If you owed someone something you’d pay it in full. Or with a monthly payment plan, hopefully one with a small down payment. Either way, you wouldn’t flee from responsibility. Even if that did mean you were paying extra for a Superhero’s doctor after hours.

So with this logic in mind, and nothing else to do but finish expense reports from your last minute business trip to Boston, you called the Avengers. Okay again, not really. But if you could’ve, you would’ve.

Instead you called multiple secretaries and multiple offices both at Stark Industries and The Avengers Initiative TM. You’ve sort of got the connections to do so, even if it does require a fair amount of digging. This is what Stark Industries pays you for, right? And besides, maybe this was part of Steve’s plan to have you “reconnect.” Or maybe Steve had forgotten. Or maybe he lied.

Finally after multiple people telling you that you have the wrong department and basically inferring that you are crazy, you go ahead and call Pepper Potts. Okay, again not actually, but you do call her secretary. Or her secretary’s secretary. Anyway this person must not have had much else to do, or possibly like you have too much to do, none of which they want to do, because they actually listen to you.

The secretary of the secretary of the CEO of Stark Industries actually forwards your call to correct department and after one business day has passed you get a call back. You verify the last four of your social security number and your date of birth and then they can finally provide vital information. The department of health and medicine or some shit informs you that your medical bills had in fact been paid.

You’re pretty sure you responded with an educated sounding, “uhhh what?” You hear that Sergeant Barnes himself (personally) paid for your x-ray and forget the rest. You’re in shock. After verifying that there’s nothing left for you to pay, you hang up the phone feeling weird. Still in shock you spin in your office chair for a few moments before realizing that you never got to tell the bastard thank you. Screw You Barnes. You write it in capital letters on today’s date in your planner.

Screw you for making me write you a goddamn thank you card. You could skip it. The chances of it actually getting to him are decently small. If on the oddest occasion you did run into him again, whether a Captain America schemed reconnection or not, you could easily blame the postal service like everyone else. But no, the grandmother in you simply would not have it. You sigh some more before pulling out the stamps. It’s nearly five anyway, work can wait until tomorrow.

Sergeant Barnes,

Thank you for paying for my medical bills from last week. I really appreciate the gesture, but I would’ve appreciated it a little more if you had told me in advance. It would’ve saved me a considerable amount of time.

Anyway, thank you for paying that and also for “saving” me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t there that night. Actually I do know what I would’ve done, I would’ve gone home taken some painkillers and gone to bed at a more decent hour.

Nevertheless, I must say thank you for the medical treatment, because I’m not sure how long it would’ve taken me to figure out that my arm was actually broken, whereas it took you about five minutes (might want to work on that, considering you’re supposedly superpowered and all that). Superman might have spotted it right away with his see through vision stuff, but alas we can’t all look good in spandex.

Again, thank you for your help and for your “Avengering”.

Sincerely,

Y/N

PS tell Captain Rogers thanks too

PSS tell the Scarlet Witch that she’s amazing and deserves the world and she’s my favorite and I love her.

_Thursday, August 3, 2017._

“Sunshine. Lemon drops. And Rainbows!” It’s the first Thursday night of August and you’re doing what you do best. Singing in the shower. Your liked songs playlist is going strong and none of your neighbors have complained yet. “Everything is wonderful hm hm we’re together!” You swing your hips in the shower, trying to remember the words. Finally the chorus comes on again, “Sunshine, lemon drops and-”

“Lollipops.” You drop your bottle of conditioner and try not to scream. Lesley Gore keeps singing in the background, oblivious to the situation at hand. Someone is in your apartment. Someone is in your bathroom! You steady yourself, turn off the water, and pull back the shower curtain to reveal your head.

“Natasha Romanoff.” The Black Widow herself offers her hand for a shake. She’s clearly been rummaging through your medicine cabinet, but joke’s on her, the only things in there are old cotton balls, half empty nail polish remover, and expired travel sized toothpaste.

“Yeah I know,” you mutter, shaking her hand quickly. Your hand is still wet from your shower, but she doesn’t seem to mind even as she wipes the excess water off on her all black outfit. You close the curtain and start the water up again. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do but you might as well finish with your hair. “I saw you basically telling those people to fuck off on CSPAN,” you shout over the sound of the shower.

“Right,” she says, “one of my more memorable TV moments.” Her voice is farther away and so you risk taking another peek. She’s been courteous enough to close your bathroom door almost all the way shut.

“One of your best moments I would say actually.” Compliments are definitely the way to go when a known murderer is in your apartment for no apparent reason. You finish your shower and wrap yourself in a towel. “So um do you want something to drink?” You’re not entirely sure why an Avenger is in your apartment, but you might as well treat her like a guest instead of an intruder.

She could be a useful acquaintance to have. Natasha Romanoff has no response. “Let’s see here,” you say, opening up your tiny refrigerator. “I’ve got orange juice, and white wine, and water. Oh and vodka,” you add pointing to the bottle on the counter. It’s missing its lid, but you’ve covered the bottle with some junk mail, so it’s safe from the dust.

“I’ll pass.” She’s still looking around your apartment and it’s embarrassing to say the least. She opens up a kitchen drawer to see a mess of every appliance manual, takeout menu, and receipt you’ve received in the past five years.

“So, lollipops huh?” You’re really struggling to come up with something to say but she’s now reading the receipts, and no one needs to know how much money you spent last week on specialty snacks from abroad.

“That’s how the song goes,” she explains before thankfully closing (or attempting to close) the drawer. She moves onto the next drawer which thankfully contains silverware and 300 packets of soy sauce. Totally normal.

“Hmm,” you try to hum the melody to see if that sounds right but you just end up singing it out loud instead. “Sunshine lemon- nope wait,” you correct yourself. “Sunshine, lollipops, rainbows, huh maybe that is right.”

“It is.” Natasha says, finishing up her search of the kitchen.

“So, uh, whatcha looking for? Need help?” The Black Widow says nothing and moves two feet forward and into your ‘bedroom.’ “So then how’d you get here?”

“Subway,” she responds easily, patting down your mattress for something. You hope you moved your vibrator under your pillow, and yep, she moves your pillow and it’s there. Well at least that mystery is solved.

“Okay, let me rephrase. How’d you get into my apartment?” You doubt the Black Widow actually takes the subway so you’re not sure why you’re bothering to ask when you’re bound to get lies.

“Window,” is all the Black Window says in response. That might actually not be a lie.

You take a peek out of your window to confirm you’re still where you normally reside. Yep, same view of a wall and trash on the ground. “I live on the fourth floor,” you comment casually to which the Black Widow just shrugs in response.

“So um are you sure you don’t want something to drink?” You remove the envelope filled with carpet cleaning coupons from covering the top of the bottle and pour yourself a shot of vodka. You get the feeling you’re gonna need it.

“No,” Natasha says, fully judging you and your apartment. That’s alright. You’re judging her right back. 

“So um uh yeah what's going on?” You’re still in your towel and your wet hair is making a mess on the floor.

“Once you get dressed we're going out,” Natasha tells you, finding a spot to sit on your bed that doesn’t have something else on it. You can’t help it if you don’t feel like hanging clothes back up in the morning. It’s not your fault.

“Um what?” You’re not interested in going out, not even if it’s with at least half of New York’s wet dream, the stunning Black Widow. The Black Widow glares, but it’s not as effective when she’s sitting on your high school track t-shirt and your four glasses of water are inches from her.

“Miss Black Widow ma’am? What do you mean? What are you asking of me?” Your voice is slow and sarcastic, and you regret it once the Black Widow stands. Yep, she’s back to terrifying again. “I mean um where are we going?”

All she says in response is to, “get dressed first.” You figure the towel is making her uncomfortable. One can only be in your after shower glowiness for so long without feeling great desire. You catch a glance of you in the mirror and change your mind. Damnit your hair still has shampoo in it.

“Am I in danger,” you ask, grabbing clothes from your dresser as discretely as possible. It doesn’t matter though; the Black Widow has already searched all of your drawers and she’s on her phone typing away.

“I know you have pepper spray in your hands right now and I promise you that if you even try to use it on me you will have far bigger issues to deal with than you do currently.” You freeze and drop the pepper spray back in your top drawer. You really need to get better with using that thing. You’ve had it for ages now and even when the opportunity presents itself you just can’t pull the trigger.

You sit down on the bed next to her and sigh until she looks at you. Wow you need to work on your pissed off face, because hers is way better than yours. “Can you at least tell me what those issues are that I am dealing with?”

“It’s more of an issue on my end I suppose. I can explain more later.” You’re not sure if the Black Widow is pitying you and your dripping split ends or if this is her version of honesty. She takes another look at you and quirks her mouth ever so slightly. “If you're ever gonna get dressed that is. Jesus Christ I mean seriously how long are you planning on wearing that towel?”

“Well to be honest before you arrived I was planning on lying in bed in my towel for a good hour or two.” The Black Widow ignores that and gestures once more to get dressed. You roll off the bed and pull on some leggings and a sweatshirt.

“That’s what you're wearing?” The Black Widow asks. Good thing you don’t have any feelings with the way she’s dissing your everything.

“Yeah well you haven’t exactly told me anything yet.” You’re not sure if she’s gonna take you somewhere to murder you or if you’re gonna need to murder someone else, but you figure she can be the one to bring that up first if necessary.

“True,” she says not offering up any more information on who the poor bastard is who you’ll certainly be throwing off the Brooklyn Bridge tonight. “Let’s go.”

Bucky lies in bed oblivious to Natasha Romanoff’s actions or really anyone’s actions. He’s been listening to the same song on repeat for who knows how long, and he has effectively drowned everything else out. Nothing in the world matters other than the soundwaves exploding in his ears. Not even his own heartbeat can compete. He’s asleep before Romanoff returns to the Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading!
> 
> Chapter title is from Wolf Alice's Beautifully Unconventional.  
> Song she sings is the shower is Lesley Gore's Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows.  
> Song Bucky listens to while in bed is entirely up for interpretation!


	3. You know where I go when we're dancing

_Tuesday, July 25, 2017_

“Knock knock,” Steve says instead of just knocking. Bucky’s not sure where that came from, but it needs to stop, preferably yesterday. “You’ve got mail,” Steve announces cheerfully, inviting himself in and sitting on Bucky’s bed.

Steve hands him the mail before he can say anything. There’s normal mail which normally goes right in the trash and then there it is, the very reason Steve decided to invade his privacy instead of letting Bucky’s mailbox overfill like it normally does. He looks at Steve who has no words for him. Steve’s clearly not going anywhere, too nosy to even pretend to not care what it is or who it’s from.

He turns over the card addressed to Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes and sees that there’s no return address on the back either. Just a sticker keeping the envelope closed. A sticker that says, ‘Super Star!’ on top of a yellow star wearing sunglasses. He’s not sure what to make of that, but he opens the envelope anyway.

Clearly no one had found it suspicious, even though Bucky thinks this reeks of a weird attempt at a prank from someone on the team. Maybe it’ll be some dorky invite to Natasha’s birthday although he doubts Pepper would use such cheap materials. Maybe it’s a themed party and everyone’ll be expected to wear clothes from the nineties or something. What a nightmare. He’ll have to go, and everyone will have some sort of planned joke about how he and Steve missed out on so much. As if he doesn’t already know. As if.

Pepper has been planning this party for forever now in an attempt to make Natasha appear more likable. If Pepper can pull that off, then Bucky’s gonna need to actually put some more effort into his own public image. But that’s not what this mail is about, although maybe his public image isn’t as bad as he assumes if this really is meant for him.

Inside the envelope is a card. A thank you card. A homemade thank you card? The more he sees the more confused he feels. It’s got a cut out of a penguin wearing a party hat with a speech bubble saying, ‘thanks for being so cool’ on the front. He opens it and it has his name at the top and messy but familiar handwriting everywhere beneath.

A thank you card that makes him feel guilty. And isn’t that nice, it’s just what he needed from this girl. He can feel Steve reading over his shoulder, so he just hands the card over to him. Steve can’t help but laugh as he reads it once and twice and then once more again.

“She’s got a personality, but I’m telling you she did handwrite this and send it in the mail.” Bucky knows that already, so why can’t Steve shut his mouth and leave him alone? “She wanted to tell you thank you even if she wanted to throw a little shade while doing so.”

“Shade?” Bucky says in disbelief, taking the card back from Steve before he runs off with it. “You spend too much time with the Spider-Kid.” Steve shrugs at that then leaves still mouthing the words, ‘we can’t all look good in spandex,’ to himself. Great. Just great.

Bucky’s not sure why but he doesn’t put the card in the recycling alongside his credit card offers or his Spectrum junk mail where they belong. Instead he keeps it in the Tower in his room inside his bottom desk drawer. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t gotten mail from a real person meant for him since he really was a Sergeant. Maybe it’s because the note is so crazy he’ll need proof when Steve inevitably tells Sam about it. Maybe it’s because it’s from her.

If that handmade thank you note lays right on top of Dr. Whatever’s torn prescription note with a Stark Industries email written on it, well no one else has to know.

_Friday, September 15, 2017_

It’s the middle of September and it’s still impossibly hot. Bucky’s seen the protestors warning the world about climate change and maybe it’s about time he joins them. There’s no time for that though, not when Steve’s keeping him busy. He’s not cleared for overseas missions or really anything big, but that doesn’t stop Steve from dragging him along for undercover ops.

It keeps him busy, which is all Steve apparently wants for him these days. He wants Bucky busy busy busy, doing something every minute of every damn day, sticking to a schedule to make sure he doesn’t do something bad again. And so that’s why Bucky got dragged along to a night club.

Club Vanaheim it’s called, and Bucky’s pretty sure Thor had mentioned it before. Whether it was in reference to this club or someplace on Asgard or something else entirely, Bucky’s not sure. It doesn’t matter to Steve and so he doesn’t learn anymore of Thor’s perspective on Vanaheim as he reads over the mission specs.

It’s probably the biggest mission he’s been on since residing in the Avengers Tower with Natasha, Sam and Steve all coming along. However it’s entirely overkill and unnecessary. The more he reads the more he wonders if this is all set up by Stark to get them to be more sociable. Out of the four of them, Sam is the most convivial and that says a lot when one considers that Sam’s most time consuming hobby is mentoring vets.

Ignoring the oddity of the mission location, it seems standard enough. Steve’ll be outside to monitor and make sure Bucky doesn’t turn into a murder bot and the other three of them will be inside, pretending to grind and drink and do whatever one does at these types of events. The more Bucky thinks about it, the more suspicious it all seems. Natasha could easily do the job all on her own.

Steve doesn’t accept that as a reason for Bucky to not show up to work and so Bucky finds himself at the club on a Friday night. The mission is going as normal as Bucky can expect when thrown into a nightclub. And then of course it’s not normal at all. She’s there chatting to a bunch of men in a VIP section. It’s her; it’s really, really her. Of all fucking people on this whole fucking world, and of course she’s there.

And of course their mark is right up there next to her. Thankfully not actually next to her, but in the same restricted area. Their mark is on the move and from what Bucky gathers from the comms, so is Natasha. Bucky was pretty sure he had already entered the VIP section thanks to Natasha’s flirtations, but maybe this is an Extremely Important Person section or an Extraordinarily Important Person section. Either way she’s in it and it’s the perfect excuse to get in and get close and get out.

“Come on,” he mutters to Sam who has been hovering way too close to him. Natasha has already disappeared, probably seducing her way past them and into an Enormously Important Person section. She’s probably already extracted the information required when all they’ve done is scope out the place. God, he hopes so. This music is way too loud, and he just wants to go back home already.

“What are you doing man?” Sam stops him. Bucky gestures to the woman, forgetting that Sam doesn’t know who she is. How could anyone not know who she is? She’s clearly an Extremely Extraordinary Very Important Person.

“I know her,” Bucky says, trying to ignore Steve in his ear asking what is going on. “It’s her, Steve.” That doesn’t clarify anything for Sam, but it all clicks with Steve and he wastes no time explaining who she is to Sam.

Sam is shook. Sam had heard of her. The entire team had heard of her thanks to Steve’s interest, Bucky’s attempt to show disinterest, and of course her now infamous thank you note. Bucky and Steve did not describe her as this woman who visits nightclubs and yet Bucky is positive that it’s her. It's a bit odd that it didn’t take much to convince Steve, but maybe he's not actually convinced and just wants Bucky to make a fool of himself. 

She’s not wearing an oversized sweatshirt or a golden blouse. Her hair’s not in a ponytail and she doesn’t have a sling anymore. It’s been just over two months (60 days) since he met her and just about as long (53 days) since he received her card. He had only seen her that one night that one time and yet he’s positive it’s her. Maybe Steve had set this is all up for him. But no, Natasha’s turned her comms back on and he can hear that the mission is still very much on going.

Natasha’s sugar sweet compliments are over the top from Bucky’s perspective, but her mark seems to be soaking it up easily. So typical. Natasha’s going the full five yards or she’s taking five or something like that. He’s too distracted by someone else to pay attention to Natasha’s seduction techniques.

He forgets her and listens to Natasha say their code word when Sam’s elbow digs deep into his rib cage. Nat’s got whatever it is they needed, and now they’re one step closer to be able to leave. Perfect timing. Just when things started looking good. Not that she never didn’t look good, but damn she looks good right now.

She’s laughing at something an older man who could only be described as distinguished said and now Sam is blatantly staring. “What is this?” Sam asks, nodding his head at the scene in front of them. She’s surrounded by graying but handsome older gentlemen who are more than doting on her.

“Is this some kind of a sugar daddy situation?” Bucky’s not sure what’s worse. What Sam’s inferring or the fact that it might be true. She could be a prostitute for all Bucky knows. Not that he’s got an issue with prostitutes, but it’s not exactly what he was expecting. She does work for Stark Industries though. If Stark isn’t paying his employees a livable wage, then Bucky’s gonna have to get involved.

He tells Sam to shut up and thankfully he does. Maybe this won’t be the end of their night. Task one is complete, but there’s always more intel to gather, right? He mutes Nat on the comms. There’s nothing he needs to hear now. Natasha’s gonna have a hell of a time sneaking away now though. She complimented every aspect of this man; he’s convinced he’s going home with the pretty blonde. Too bad it’s a wig and she’s full of lies.

He wonders if something similar is going on in front of him. Another beautiful woman talking up a crowd of spectators, but which one is she trying to swindle? Which one has something she wants and why doesn’t he have it?

Bucky orders two drinks at the bar and approaches. Sam trails him, still staying too close. Sam can buy his own drinks; neither of these will be going towards him tonight. Bucky can’t think of a suave line to get his way past the smaller than him bodyguard separating him from her. Thankfully it’s not necessary because she spots him, and her eyebrows raise. Her smiling mouth transforms into a smirk to match her hands excitedly gesturing him towards her.

The man protecting the velvet rope separating her from him doesn’t budge. She evades the hands and questions of the men around her and dances over to him, pulling him along with her. Somehow Sam sneaks in as well. Even with his comms muted, Bucky will still have an attentive audience.

“Hello there, handsome,” she purrs up at him. She’s taller than before thanks to a pair of teetering heels but not tall enough to whisper into his ear. He imagines her whispering into his ear and he has to stop that immediately. Whether he likes it or not, he’s still on the job.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your friend?” She’s looking Sam up and down and judging by the wink she sends him, she approves. Sam introduces himself by kissing her hand. A little over the top, but maybe the environment calls for it. Bucky doesn’t know. “Sit, sit!” She tells them, nearly pushing away the other men to make room. They are not amused by their appearance or by her reaction to it.

“And you are,” Sam trails off, hoping for her name. She laughs at her forgetfulness and introduces herself. The men around her (all seven of them) introduce themselves as well. The one closest to her is old but judging by his watch, he’s loaded. Possibly with weapons but definitely with cash. She smiles and makes the money signal with her fingers to clarify. It’s unnecessary and rude, but the men around her don’t seem to mind. In fact they find it charming and eye her up and down even more than before.

Bucky’s ready to crush a something. What this is, has yet to be determined. Maybe the smart phone that’s as big as a tablet in the man to his left’s hands. Maybe the flat screen TV that isn’t even turned on. Maybe the wristwatch of the man sitting right beside her, his hands creeping closer and closer to her right in front of everyone.

But she’s not here with him, not with any of them. Her real date shows up with a round of shots and apologies. He’s young and tall and handsome and she sits on his lap, his hands finding her waist as if he’s done this a million times before. She had been holding his seat for him. It all makes sense that she would be with this young and charming man, but it also makes no sense at all. Or maybe that’s just Bucky hoping that it doesn’t make sense. He wants desperately for this to not be true.

It appears to be legitimate as the two whisper and giggle about who knows what. The man kisses down the side of her neck and Bucky wishes he could look away. She continues to ignore the drink Bucky bought for her in favor of downing a shot that this other man bought her. She licks salt off of the man’s hand, finishes the tequila, and takes the lime. All of the men including Bucky and Sam stare.

She gives the man a kiss, leaving the lime in his mouth and excuses herself to freshen up. She has no more words for her lover, or any of the voyeurs. The lover on the other hand finally seems to regain his sense once she’s gone and realizes that there are two newcomers here that he doesn’t know. He’s not angry about them crashing his event, on the contrary he seems to find it amusing. Maybe this is their game. She brings along men and lets them all watch while she only has eyes for him.

“So, do I know you?” The man is too casual about it, too nonchalant. He should be afraid of them. He should be afraid of him. The Winter Soldier is a killer and although Bucky doesn’t do that anymore, he’s wondering if this man will be an exception. Sam recognizes the tenseness growing in him, and he pats him on the back harder than necessary.

“No, I don’t think so,” Sam’s being overly friendly but it’s probably necessary to make up for the vibe Bucky is putting off. “My friend here,” he smacks Bucky on the back again. “Knows your girl. She invited us.” Bucky wants to give Sam a good smack back.

The man laughs at their vague connection. “Yeah she does that,” he tells them. But it’s not a thoughtful ‘yes my girl is sweet and wonderful’, it’s more of a ‘you two are losers and need to get out of my sight now.’ Sam picks up on that and picks up his drink in response. It’s the one Bucky had bought for her, but just like all other things, Sam had taken advantage of the opportunity.

“We’ll be heading out now. It was nice to meet all of you.” It’s a lie and everyone on the large couch knows it. Sam attempts to drag Bucky along with him without causing a scene but it’s not exactly working. Bucky waits to hear Steve tell him to back down but he doesn’t. His comms are still off and so he doesn’t have to follow the rules of his commanding officer. Sam’s not in charge of him.

“She’s better than you, you know.” Bucky’s not entirely sure why he says it, except of course to pick a fight. He doesn’t know this man at all, met him less than fifteen minutes ago and is already insulting him. Furthermore in all honesty he doesn’t know her that well either. They’ve spent maybe a total of two hours together over the past two months? Not exactly grounds for determining worthiness of relationship status.

As expected the man doesn’t like that. He stands and Bucky remembers just how tall he is. He’s probably got a few inches on him, but Bucky’s larger, stronger, and has a metal arm. He’s also got a team of well-trained Avengers behind him and two knives and a gun hidden in his clothing. He’ll be just fine as long as Steve doesn’t come out here and kill Bucky first.

The man, her lover, doesn’t stop to chat. Instead he steps closer and swings a fist right into Bucky’s face. Bucky lets it connect. He wants the man to think that he’s in charge. Plus that way he can say he didn’t start the fight. Plus he also doesn’t mind the feeling. It’s nice to feel the adrenaline surge and he knows he’ll be back to normal in just a few hours, bruising never lasts long on him anymore.

The man grins and attempts to throw a second punch, but this one Bucky stops easily. The grin slides off the man’s face and Bucky swings back, leaving him with a black eye that unlike his, will last more than a few hours. Sam’s been trying to pull him away since the beginning, but it’s unnecessary once Natasha arrives on the scene. She’s taller than Bucky remembers, but her look is just the same.

Bucky steps away from the man. It’s a little too late though, the man is still on the floor yelling for his buddies to go get him some ice and a doctor. Bucky wants to laugh but another glance at Natasha tells him he shouldn’t. The mission is definitely close to completion if Natasha is here to fetch them. It’s time to leave and say their goodbyes.

Bucky doesn’t have to look far to find her. She’s returned to their section but instead of rushing to her lover’s side, she approaches Natasha. Oddly enough she’s barefoot now, but her exuberance remains. Bucky can’t hear the conversation between the two women thanks to the loud music, but it’s barely more than few words. How do they know each other?

Natasha and Sam make eye contact and then Sam waves a quick goodbye before leaving. Maybe the mission isn’t complete yet. Maybe there’s been something going on in the background all along. It doesn’t matter because Natasha’s ready to usher him out any second now. He ignores Nat’s glares and focuses on her and tells her he has to go.

He’s not sure why it feels so necessary to him. He hadn’t come here for her. Hell, he didn’t even know she’d be here until he showed up. But all the same, he knows that the mission report is going to be hard to write up when all he can remember from the past hour is the way she looks and the way she moves, and so he better make this worth it.

She doesn’t accept their goodbyes though, genuinely looking disappointed to hear that they’re leaving. Her eyes lock onto his and she glides over to him. “One dance,” she says pointing right at Bucky’s chest. She’s nearly close enough for her to touch the material of his dress shirt and she’s getting closer by the second.

Her lover is saying something to her, now that he’s gotten up off the floor, but she’s not hearing it and neither is Bucky. He’s entranced by her look and now by her touch as she pushes his chest playfully, leading him away from the private section and onto the dance floor.

“Don’t cause a scene,” he can hear Steve in his ear. Great. Steve must have overridden the controls to hear what was going on. Bucky doesn’t want to hear Steve in his ear, and he doesn’t want Steve to hear him. He turns off the comms and focuses on the beautiful woman in front of him.

The room is dark save for the lights which have been flashing and subsequently annoying the shit out of him, and yet maybe now he can understand the reasoning. Every time the colored lights catch her face he can’t help but stare. Fluorescent and glowing she appears to be in her own world. He feels as though this is her world that he’s about to enter. He wonders if he wants to or if he’s ready for this. He reminds himself that it's not a new world. It's the same world he's lived in all this time.

She pulls him forward laughing easily from the drinks he’s watched her drain. Her hands are cold but soft and one finds its way to the back of his neck, pulling his face down close to hers. “Relax pretty boy,” she whispers seductively into his ear and Bucky is glad he turned off comms with Steve. This way her words are for him and him alone.

They dance for too long and not long enough. Bucky is sure of it. By the time a song comes on that she doesn’t already know, Sam’s still out of sight and Natasha has made her way back into the flytrap. Clearly there was still more work to be done, even if it didn’t include him. Honeypot mission isn’t a term Steve uses, but everyone knew what was going on when Natasha appeared in a tight dress rather than tactical gear.

A few minutes later and time has slipped away from him again. He’s not alone on the dance floor, but not with the person he’d like to be with either. She’s disappeared, probably back to appease her lover and Natasha is now beside him. “Let’s go,” Nat tells him, shoving his communication device roughly back into his hands. She must’ve stolen it out of his pocket without him even noticing. What else did he not notice? Had she said something to him before she had left? Was she coming back?

There’s no time to think it over; Natasha’s dragging him away, making it all appear as if a horny couple (them) are looking for a private place (the car outside). They make it out of the club and Sam is already in the car with Steve. Sam and Steve are busy with their devices and Natasha starts the car. At the sound of the engine Steve looks up at him.

“Tell me everything,” Steve commands, but Bucky can tell this isn’t his Captain speaking. It’s just Steve being nosy as always.

“You heard it all,” Bucky tells him but that’s not entirely true. Most of the night Bucky had been silencing his communication device and not for good reason. Captain America should be pissed. Bucky should be grateful that he’s just having to deal with Steve, but he still doesn’t want to spill. Especially not when Sam and Nat are listening.

“So is he her boyfriend?” Sam asks, still typing away at the laptop. Whatever information they were gathering, Bucky hopes it was good. This night better have given them the keys to the kingdom for all he’s been through. Although, it’s definitely not all bad.

Bucky’s ready to respond to Sam's question with an ‘I don’t know,' but Natasha butts in instead. “She’s single,” Natasha tells the boys. Bucky’s not the only one who’s confused about how or why Natasha knows this, but the car remains silent for the rest of the drive back to the Tower. It's a small blessing. One that Bucky feels he might deserve.

Upon their arrival though is another story. Sam closes the laptop and catches a glimpse of Bucky trying to sneak away quietly. He doesn’t want Steve to remember his request from earlier. He needs space to think about the events of tonight on his own first. Sam doesn’t feel the same.

“Oh man, wait until you hear about Buck losing it in the club!” Steve stiffens slightly at the sound of that. “And not in a good way!” Sam slaps Bucky on the back yet again and Bucky resists the urge to deck him. “He was ready to break all the disco lights in that place.” Thankfully Sam and Steve continue their conversation as they walk away without him.

Natasha tosses the car keys at Bucky’s face and heads inside without another word. So what if Bucky took his anger out on electronics. It was one time! What more can he say? There’s something oh so satisfying about smashing a TV. And that first time he crushed a mobile phone in his hands? It was like being on drugs. But that’s not the point.

The point is that she kept doing all of this to him. She was making him feel all these things again. And sure, jealousy was the biggest one, but there were other emotions bubbling up as well. He pockets the keys and then changes his mind. He’s gonna go on a drive to clear his mind. It’s exactly what he needs right now.

It’s not until Bucky is parking the car back inside the garage when he remembers what she had said to him. They had finished their dance which had turned into multiple dances and then she had to go. Bucky’s not sure what he had said to her in between that might have prompted this, but as she had left she had a few curious words to say.

“I’m not a spy,” she had told him, and he believed it then. But now, now he’s not so sure. She could be anything, anything at all, and he’d believe it. His late night drive didn’t clear his mind. In fact all it did was make him realize one thing. He was in way over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Chapter title from Social House's Magic in the Hamptoms


	4. You eloquently stated that leaving's overrated

_Thursday, August 2, 2017._

“Well I’m not the best at making decisions sometimes.” Natasha waits for you to explain all that vagueness. Why you’re out walking around with the Black Widow right now, still makes no sense, but when a globally renowned assassin asks you questions, you try your best to answer.

“Sometimes I just feel drawn to something you know?” You look at Natasha and her face is so blank you’re not sure if she does know if or if she’s solving differential equations in her head. She’s entirely unreadable. It’d be impressive if it weren’t so frustrating.

“Like I’ve got to have it and it’s got to be right now.” You don’t particularly like how that sounds but it’s true. “Well, sometimes I’ll go out and that something is a person and I’ll just have to have it and so I’ll make that decision and later on I’ll realize how stupid I was.” You feel pretty stupid right now trying to explain your flawed logic to the Black Widow.

She finally responds to you. “So Bucky was one of those bad decisions?” The look in her eyes is mischievous? No, sympathetic? No, pleased? No, none of that makes any sense, you just can’t read her at all.

“Yes, well no!” You’re stumbling now, both over your words and physically. The Black Widow grabs your elbow and keeps you from tripping over, oh nothing at all. “Definitely a mistake but not like that. I was just going home, and it all happened and then Captain America was egging me on and what was I supposed to do? Not give the man my number?”

“But you didn’t.” Natasha points out. All of your rambling and she wants to nitpick? You’re gonna be here all night at this rate.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. I didn’t.” You didn’t give Bucky your number. Instead you wrote down your work email and handed it to Steve. All of your courage had melted away when he refused to catch your eye.

“Why?” Is the Black Widow genuinely curious or is this some kind of social experiment that she’s conducting for research purposes?

“I don’t know,” you shrug. It’s the truth and it’s an easy answer, but Natasha waits for more. “Guess I thought that might be too forward? Ugh honestly I just wasn’t thinking okay. I wasn’t planning for him to do anything with it either way. Maybe I was trying to be flirty or coy or funny or maybe I just wanted to piss him off. I don’t really know but I just did it.”

“And it was for Bucky?” Her voice is detached, almost clinical. “Not Steve?” You don’t trust your voice to respond to that so you just nod. Logically it should have been for either of them, both of them, any of them, but all along it was really just for Bucky. Steve had known it before you confirmed it and you get the feeling that Natasha knew it too.

She’s quiet but continues walking the same steady pace. You’re starting to recognize where you are again, not too far from home. You yawn in anticipation of crawling back into bed. “Don’t contact him again,” the Black Widow tells you abruptly and she doesn’t give you a second to complain. “Don’t. No letters, no texts, no nothing. If you run into him, you don’t know him.”

You’re not sure why your heart feels like it’s breaking, but it is. You barely even know this guy. At least now you won’t have to. “And if I see him at work?” It’s pointless. If she knows anything about your job description, which she does, she knows that won’t happen. You’re so far excluded from the action you haven’t heard a rumble of the quinjets, which now that you think about it probably are pretty damn quiet with their stealth safeguards.

Natasha, carefully taking stock of your body language, informs you, “you won’t see him. I’ll make sure of it.” Well that’s that. You’ll probably still end up daydreaming about Cap and Bucky bursting through the door to save you from spreadsheets or Wanda Maximoff mind controlling your boss to give you the week off, but that can’t be helped.

You arrive at your apartment and turn to wish Natasha a good night. She’s already gone. Great. You hadn’t screamed at her unexpected arrival. You had offered her orange juice and vodka. You had joined her on a weird walk and yet you still hadn’t made a good impression. Oh well. There’s nothing you can do about it now but move on.

_The Weekend of September 15, 2017._

Moving on wasn’t exactly an option though. Not when your interrupted night at Vanaheim was the very definition of unexpected. You had been spending your lunch breaks wandering around random floors of the Avengers Tower wondering if you would just casually bump into the one and only Bucky Barnes. Then it was proved unnecessary and not just because security had been called on your behalf twice. No, it was unnecessary because Bucky came to you.

Another night out with Richard and his stupid “work friends” had been on the schedule. They weren’t work friends and there was no schedule. You knew that; he knew that; they knew that. Richard just wanted to show you off and he bought you a dress to do so. You should’ve said no, but it had been a magnificent day and you couldn’t just go home and lay about. No, you needed to go out and do something. You needed to be seen.

And you definitely were seen. You don’t remember much of what was going on, but you remember seeing him. Those damn blue eyes had met yours and you had known exactly who he was. And damn did he clean up nicely. You remember dancing with him, and good old Rich hadn’t taken it so lightly. In fact he was pissed off.

But you really didn’t care. You weren’t exclusive with that fucker, you weren’t even dating. He knew that, but he still felt ownership over you. It probably wasn’t a good way to end it, but at least it was over now. You’d lose VIP status at Vanaheim and you’d have to give back at least one of the bags he bought you, but that place was crap and you never used the bags anyway. Plus there was still the chance he’d come crawling back to you in another week or two.

And besides you had still had a great night. Being absolutely hammered helped but between chatting with Black Widow in the ladies’ room, trying on her painful shoes, and dancing with Bucky, it had all been worth it. Bucky had been a bit peculiar when it was you two alone, but he couldn’t be more lovely. He had been respectful, something the other men at the club apparently never learned in kindergarten.

He was hung up on the idea that you could read his mind though. Or that you were manipulating his brain chemicals. Neither of which were true. Damn it would be cool if it were true though. You wouldn’t mind manipulating your own brain chemicals. Either way you had a lovely night.

A lovely night until night had turned into day. At least it was the weekend, and you had no plans except laying in your bed all day wishing you had thought to properly hydrate. You spent all of Saturday sleeping and moping about your apartment, wishing you weren’t the way that you are. And then the Sunday scaries started up.

You needed to do laundry. You needed to go to the store to buy food that wasn’t processed carbs. You needed to wash your hair. You had work tomorrow and you had forgotten what it meant to be human. All of that was exacerbated by your fragile mental state. Right on time, exactly what always happens after a night of heavy drinking starts; the weight comes crashing back down on top of you.

Thinking about it again, it hadn’t been worth it, not all. Not when you feel like this. Not when you’re all alone and have ten thousand things to do all last week. You’re drowning in feeling nothing at all and feeling anxiety about everything all at once. There’s too much to handle and nothing to do about it.

Nope, you’re never gonna drink again. It always brings you back down and yet you never learn. You never learn that it is not worth it. But on the other side of things you were definitely going to be seeing him again. After all, Black Widow owed you a new pair of heels. After Miss Romanoff confronted you in the single occupant ladies’ room, you actually might have become friends.

In the fancy restroom she had told you about the man she had been swindling and the two of you commiserated over men who had nothing but the audacity. She had admired your shoes and you had immediately taken them off for her to try on. By the magic of the drunken bathroom fairies, you wear the same shoe size.

So Natasha had taken your six inch heels for a spin and all you could do was compliment her. What else do you do when the most beautiful woman in the world is strutting in your shoes in front of you? But then she had heard something or someone and had left in a rush, still in your shoes.

You tried on hers, but they were like knives stabbing the back of your heel, so you just left them in the bathroom (it’s a nice bathroom!) and walked out barefoot (it’s a nice club!). Yes, you were wasted but let’s not talk about that.

So yes, you would certainly be seeing Natasha Romanoff again. And who knows, now that she likes you maybe the ‘don’t talk to Bucky’ thing will end. Natasha’s got that power; you’ve just got to convince her to give it to you. And so even though you’re starting a downwards spiral that will make you further regret everything you did last week, you fall asleep easily, wondering when it is you’ll see Bucky Barnes again.

Less than a mile away Bucky Barnes is wide awake but thinking along the same lines. Maybe she doesn’t even want to see him again. He knows that would be a reasonable response to someone like him, but also imagines her to be not so reasonable. All the same it’s a bit reckless to daydream schemes of ways to run into her again. The Winter Soldier is calculating, precise, and does not daydream. Bucky Barnes though, he’s pretty reckless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Chapter title is from The Maine's Bad Behavior.


	5. I want a shot at redemption

_Saturday, November 18, 2018. One week before Natasha Romanoff’s birthday._

Bucky has been dreading this day for weeks. Months really. The thank you card that is now hidden in his bedside table wasn’t an invite, but the invite came all the same. It’s yet another party and Bucky is once again uncomfortable.

He’s not just uncomfortable because of the amount of people coming. Why Natasha let Pepper throw her a party doesn’t make much sense to him, but maybe this will finally make Natasha a more positive public figure? The public either loves her for standing up to the Department of Defense live on TV after revealing the rot growing in SHIELD or the public hates her for how she did it. Or possibly just because she’s killed a lot of people. Either way it’s going to be a big crowd and mingling will be required.

He’s mostly uncomfortable because he rarely is in the presence of Mr. Tony Stark. However this is to celebrate Natasha’s birthday (which one it is she will not say), and so she wouldn’t put up with anyone missing out. Even Thor is on planet, a rarity in the last couple of years. Bucky figures that if Natasha has to go through this misery of a public birthday celebration she’s going to drag each and every last one to it.

But who knows. After the guests are ushered out at midnight, maybe it will be fun. The team is in dire need of a break and maybe this will be a good opportunity for Bucky to let his hair down.

Letting his hair down is not exactly how Bucky would explain his situation, even if his hair technically is down. He’s ready to put it right back up and out of the way even before he sees her. Because of course if Natasha knows her she’d be here. Of course everyone just wants to torture him even more.

She’s not just here to blend into the crowd though. It’s worse than that. She’s a popular guest and Tony Stark is immediately enthralled. “Who are you here with tonight? Cap? Wilson? Thor?” She shakes her head and smiles.

“No, wanna keep guessing?” Is she flirting with Tony Stark? Bucky thinks he might be ill. Tony laughs and shakes his head at her words. He’s a drink away from messing things up with Pepper yet again, but that’s none of Bucky’s business.

“She's my guest, Tony.” Natasha is just as beautiful, eyes following her as she moves across the room, but she doesn’t have the same something that brings Bucky’s eyes back to the other women who Nat is speaking about. “She and I have become fast friends, but she actually works for you.”

Tony brightens upon hearing that. “For me, huh? Which department?” He’s about to guess something like marketing probably, when Bucky realizes he’s actually not sure where she works. She’s not a spy, but isn’t that exactly what a spy would say? Didn’t Natasha start out as an assistant as well?

“Client services,” she responds and it’s clear to even socially obtuse Tony that she won’t be explaining further. She probably signed all sorts of paperwork that forced her not to disclose this information, even if she would be telling it to her own boss.

“So who’s your favorite?” Tony asks, not letting the conversation with her end. She appears confused, and so Tony elaborates by dramatically gesturing to the occupants of the room. “Your favorite Avenger,” he continues, “Black Widow, your fast friend? Or is it the golden boy who’s your favorite Avenger?”

Clearly Bucky had not been imagining the way she had been staring at Steve earlier. “Sorry who?” She genuinely seems confused now and her eyebrows scrunch in a way that do things to Bucky’s stomach. He’s really got to stop eating the canapes at these things. Who knows how long they’ve been sitting out in the open.

“The golden boy, Cap? I bet he’s your favorite; you seem like the type.” Tony’s being nosy know-it-all but in his coy way that makes people not say much about it. 

“Cap?” She scoffs. “I mean sorry Steve you seem like a cool guy and all, but you’re not my favorite Avenger. Hell you’re not even my favorite Captain.”

Once everyone gets over their surprise, they are laughing so hard Bucky can’t even acknowledge the way his stomach has apparently somersaulted. What other Captains are there? Who does she know? Someone must have asked the question Bucky’s mind immediately came up with because she’s still talking.

“Who’s my favorite Captain?” She ponders the question again for a second. “Well Morgan is probably first, putting Crunch at second. But Steve, America’s probably a strong number three.” Steve and Bucky are both confused but the rest of the growing crowd howls with drunken laughter. Morgan? Crunch? Who are these people and why does everyone but him know them?

She doesn’t see him, but she immediately acknowledges Steve’s confusion. “Captain Morgan? The drink?” Her words don’t make any sense to Bucky and judging by Steve’s face, not him either. “The rum? Maybe you know the alternative brand better, Admiral Nelson?” Admiral Nelson? Not everyone here is military and he wasn’t aware she is either, and yet way too many people are laughing at this Admiral’s name.

Sam manages to control his laugher enough to say, “I haven’t heard of that name since college. How did I even forget about Admiral Nelson’s?

“Oh I try to forget Admiral Nelson,” she responds cheekily. “Although I guess he makes it pretty easy,” she adds with a wink.

“It’s a cheap rum, Tony explains to the Steve, his grin much larger than Bucky’s. “Like Carúpano Legendario or Don Pancho, except much, much worse.”

“Yeah but that’s the kind of rum you just sip on.” She explains to Steve, but glances over at him in the corner. Bucky looks down to the drink in his own hand. It’s a soda but in a fancy glass to match everyone else’s. He wonders if she knows that. “You wouldn’t have a rum and coke made with that stuff!”

Tony shrugs, “when you’ve got the money to buy it you can drink it however you like. I’ve got a few bottles of top shelf rum if that’s your poison.” She’s shocked. Did Iron Man just invite her to have a drink? If Bucky was feeling ill earlier, now he’s vomiting up all of his intestines.

“And what about this Captain Crunch?” Vision asks. He’s next to a happy Wanda and Bucky’s surprised but only for a second. Of course she would be the person so personable that even strange Vision and secretive Wanda would be drawn to her.

“Captain Crunch? You know the cereal?” Vision shakes his head and looks at Wanda who appears unsure if she has or hasn’t heard of it. Bucky wonders if Vision eats at all. He’s never seen it happen, but who knows. “You’ve never had it? Oh my god, give me twenty minutes and I’ll be back with my favorite Captains so we can all have a try!”

“Do we all get a try of Captain America too?” Natasha, the birthday girl, teases Steve. She laughs at Natasha’s words and turns to look at Steve. Steve’s growing blush can only mean her look included a wink. Bucky really shouldn’t have had that cocktail shrimp.

“That’s up to him, not me,” she tells the room and she’s about to leave to rush out the door, probably to head to the nearest store to deliver on her promise. However, Tony stops her by handing her a new drink. Bucky’s pretty sure it’s a rum and coke with his most expensive rum. Probably a fancy coca cola too. He tries not to grimace as she accepts it and takes a small sip. He needs some air.

Bucky spends about an hour outside on the balcony just watching the birds settle on the telephone wires. If only he could just be a bird for a day, worrying about where to sit instead of wondering if the seat would electrocute you.

He knows he’s getting to philosophical for a Saturday night, so he leaves the balcony in search of some friends. Or at least people he knows. After refusing too many drinks from too many women and men, hoping to chat up the Winter Soldier, he finds where most of the team has been hiding.

“Oh he’s just an on and off thing.” She’s perched casually on the arm of a sofa next to Natasha, Sam and Steve. Thor’s listening a little too closely to her and Banner’s eyes are on his phone, but Bucky knows he’s listening as well. “The sex’s great and the gifts he gives-”

“Bucky!” She turns to look at him as the door shuts with a quiet click. “Come and sit!” He doesn’t join them on the couch, but he moves closer. She continues talking about who knows what. “But yeah he usually just wants to take me out to show me off.”

Great. She’s probably telling them all about how Bucky punched her boyfriend. Or not her boyfriend, her whatever he is. She grins at Bucky and gestures for him to come closer. His feet move without his permission.

It’s as if she’s speaking to him and only him. “Those other guys might be richer, but he’s got me.” Her smile is blinding. “Or at least those idiots think he does. Cause I’m not his at all.”

Bucky feels himself nodding as if he’s hypnotized by her words. She’s not his. At all. But he wants her to be. No, not that man’s. He wants her to be his. Bucky’s girl. God damn it, he wants it bad.

She continues. “It’s a win-win situation, really. He bought me that dress wasn’t it gorgeous?” She’s now addressing Natasha who agrees with her wholeheartedly, complimenting her shoes as well. Bucky’s not sure if the dress was gorgeous or just the person in it, but he manages to nod as she continues to gush over it.

When she starts describing the lingerie she had to wear with the revealing neckline, Bucky leaves. Well his brain does anyway. He simply cannot the things women do in this century, or maybe more accurately the things that this women does.

He can’t imagine the rest of the men in the room maintain proper brain function either, but then she and Natasha are gone, and Bucky is left to wonder if that was the two of them just messing with them or what. It probably was. There’s no reason to wear anything if you’re going to be wearing so very little in the first place at all, right? Either way he can’t think about it or he’s going to have an awkward situation soon.

Again, the other remaining men appear to be thinking along the same lines, and so they exit without speaking another word about the garter on Natasha’s thigh or the descriptions of lacy under things.

He gets through the next few hours by focusing on everything and anything that is not her. And for the most part it works.

However, when he comes back to wish Natasha happy birthday and Good night he is roped into an entirely unpleasant situation. And not in a tightening of the pants situation, but a truly awful unpleasant situation. For some godforsaken reason, one of their worst enemies snuck into the Avengers Tower to set up a karaoke machine.

And of course his timing is as horrible as ever. Tony is handing over the mic to her, and she is requesting a song. You can call me Al. Bucky doesn’t get it at all he’s never heard it. Tony seems to be surprised by her choice too. She doesn’t want to sing with Tony though. She comes closer but she doesn’t want to sing with Steve either.

“Barnes?” She asks and her eyes sparkle as she offers her hand. He finds himself accepting. After all there’s just a couple of people in this room, even if one of them is Tony Stark. They stand up there in front of everyone and Bucky’s not sure what the hell is going on.

But the song starts, and she starts to bop up and down to the music. Is this song even a duet? Are the words going to be vulgar? Is this going to end up on the YouTube? At least there’s just the one microphone.

She begins to sing along with the words. It’s not really singing though. She’s just saying the words on rhythm some parts loud and some parts more breathless as she leads the two of them in a strange little jig around the floor. She lets go of his hands in favor of doing a solo dance with high kicks and Bucky stops to watch her. She does imaginary trumpets and oddly enough Tony copies her. He must be drunker than Bucky realized.

In no time at all the song ends and the team all applauds. They’re all drunker than Bucky realized and it’s a damn good thing. Better chance that no one will remember this. Bucky wishes he had taken Thor up on his offer of Asgardian liquor so that he wouldn’t remember this.

“Betty,” Stark announces, suddenly appearing in front of Bucky. Bucky’s not sure if Stark is going to hug him or punch him. He does neither as he folds at the waist and vomits on Bucky’s shoes. “Sorry, Betty,” Stark mumbles and that’s Bucky cue to get lost. Once the floor is cleaned and the shoes are in the trash, Bucky wishes a drunk Natasha a happy birthday and leaves.

_Monday, November 20, 2017_

Two days later and she’s back in their living room. There’s no party and no event and yet here she is chatting up Sam and Steve who listen in rapture, clinging to her every word.

“Hey Betty,” she says upon seeing him. Ugh is all Bucky can say in response. She laughs at that. “You can call me Al,” she tells him playfully.

“Yeah, yeah I remember,” Bucky tells her feeling annoyed, embarrassed and pleased that she remembered. So many feelings whenever she’s around and Bucky’s still not sure if he likes it or not.

“There’s so many good songs I wish I could’ve done.” She's telling Sam and Steve about all sorts of music he’s never heard of and her karaoke night regrets. She’s playing bits and pieces of it out of her phone, not caring that no one else wants to hear her music.

She only knows about half the words but sings them all. Bucky’s pretty sure that even if he was born in this time, he wouldn’t have heard of any of this. The only good news is that this means that the karaoke machine is gone. She wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to use a microphone.

“I’ve got the brains, you’ve got the looks, let’s make lots of money.” She sings it to Bucky, using the TV remote as a pretend microphone. Steve laughs at her, not believing those are the actual words. She’s quiet when the chorus comes around again, and Steve is kind of disturbed. If Bucky wasn’t feeling similarly troubled by the lyrics, he would find it funny.

“That’s not music,” Steve tells her, looking at Bucky as if he’s going to jump in to defend him. He might agree with him, but no way is he doing that. He’s not about to willingly walk into a lion’s den. Especially not when she’s the lion.

“Like your stuff was any better.” She’s still playing the song but this time singing new words. “I’ve got the looks, you’ve got the money, let’s make lots of brains.” Bucky’s not entirely sure Steve has picked up on the difference. “Besides,” she adds playfully towards Steve, “it describes you and Stark perfectly. It should be your theme song.”

“The Avengers don’t make money,” Steve says, sounding like he’s told her that before. It’s mostly true. As part of the team you get lodging and amenities but no salary. Not that Steve needs one. “Or brains,” Steve adds in. He doesn’t sound too sure about that though.

“Oh really then how do you explain this place,” she says gesturing to their beautiful modern surroundings. “And of course Vision’s got a brain right? What would you call that?” Bucky doesn’t have a clue if Vision has a brain and if Stark made it or not, but it doesn’t matter. Steve huffs at her words and that’s enough to please Bucky.

“I’m hungry,” she announces, her music still playing through the speakers. He’s not sure how she managed to connect her phone to them so easily when he and Steve easily spent an hour trying to last week, but he’s not about to admit that to anybody.

“Help yourself,” Steve tells her, and Sam follows her into the kitchen, probably to make sure she doesn’t cause any damage to herself or the kitchen. Bucky follows along too. What, it’s no big deal. He could use a snack too.

Sam points her to the cupboards that house some of their food while he heads to the pantry to grab whatever he has hidden away. Bucky can’t blame him; he hides his favorites too. By the time he’s gotten himself a glass of water she’s up on the counter. Sam returns with a bag of gummy bears and also watches her.

She feels their stares and turns to look at him, face half hidden behind her chosen snacks. “Sorry I’m not tall, we can’t all be the human equivalent of ladders.” That makes absolutely no sense to Bucky. She needs a ladder not a tall human? He’s about to tell her just as much, but she doesn’t care to hear it. “And I’m not that short. I’m five foot two,” she informs them proudly.

Everyone’s ready to jump in to tell her that, yes five foot two is in fact very short, but Bucky’s distracted. “But you’re five foot three.” He’s not sure why, but he’s positively certain of it. More certain about it than how tall he himself is.

“No,” she tells him, looking at him as if he’s crazy. She jumps off the counter and Bucky resists the urge to catch her. “I'm not, I’m five foot two,” she repeats to him. “I think I would know how tall I am.”

“But you told me you were five three?” Sam’s giving him a weird look, but it’s true. She did. She did tell him. He remembers it now. That conversation happened the very first night they met and he’s positive she told him that.

“No I didn’t? When did I do that?” She steals Bucky’s glass of water and moves back into the living room. She settles down beside Steve who evaluates her choice of food.

“First night we met,” Bucky states plainly, proud that he does remember this. She tries to interrupt but he continues. “Nuh uh, let me speak, first time we met I called you short and you said you were five foot three.”

He can see it all click in her mind. “Well I was lying, cause I’m not. I’m five foot two.” Bucky is feeling so very confused. Apparently so are the other two occupants of the room.

“Let’s just get this straight you lied to him the first night you met, and it wasn’t about your name, career, or where you lived. It was to make yourself one inch taller than you actually are?” Sam deadpans.

“Yes,” she says entirely unamused. Steve tries to disguise a laugh as a cough. She glares at him.

“Why?” Sam asks, now outright laughing. She takes her time chewing her food and taking a sip of water before she responds.

“Make me more intimidating.” If Sam wasn’t dying of laughter before he sure is now. She throws a pillow at him and another at Steve. She’s out of pillows so she just scowls at Bucky.

“Well I don’t believe that you’re five two,” Bucky says. “There’s no way I’m a whole foot taller than you.” He’s only pretty sure how tall he is, but either way he likes seeing her like this. It’s fun.

She catches the pillow that Sam throws back at her and flings it at Bucky who lets it hit him square in the chest and fall to the floor. “Well yeah,” she says, “but only because you’re not actually six two. You're like five eleven.” Bucky can’t believe this.

“No I'm not,” he whines, sounding like an overgrown child. He picks the pillow off of the ground and tries to decide who to throw it at. She’s taking a drink so that’s not an option unless he really wants to be an asshole, but that’s okay. He’s got two other large targets that are now laughing at him. He chooses Sam and chucks the pillow at his head.

“Bucky you don’t need to lie,” she tells him, putting her water back down. IT had just been a ruse so that he wouldn’t retaliate. “This isn’t a tinder profile. No girl is gonna shoot you down based on the fact that you’re under six foot.” Bucky only understands about half of that, but whatever. It doesn’t matter.

“I’m six two,” Bucky repeats, wondering if the others are understanding her last sentence. “I’ve always been six two.” Again, he’s not that sure about it, but confidence is key, right?

“Oh so when you were born you were six two? Your mother gave birth to a six foot two inch tall baby?” She’s got him there. Confidence is apparently not the only key required to get past her.

Bucky groans. “You’re impossible.” He dodges both pillows from Sam and flops down on the couch. He lands closer to her than he had intended. When he looks up he can see her looking down at him.

“Well, let’s get the official height.” Steve joins in with a measuring tape that he’s gotten from who knows where. He makes her get up off the couch and move away from Bucky. Bucky sits up and watches her stand up straight against the wall while Steve measures her quickly. “Shorty here is five feet two and one eighth inches tall,” Steve announces cheerfully.

“Told you so,” she says, sticking her tongue out at Bucky. At least he’s not the only child in this room. She’s stooping right down to his level. Too bad he can’t stoop down to five feet.

“Well if you round up then it’s five three,” Bucky says, shrugging. She’s forgotten all of her snacks on the coffee table which means they are his now.

“That’s not how rounding works you idiot!” She exclaims. Bucky doesn’t care. Not when he can finally drink the water he had gotten for himself.

Steve shushes everyone as he gestures for Bucky to get up. Bucky pretends to be greatly tortured by this, but he stands and switches spots with her. Steve wields his retractable measuring tape and measures Bucky. “And Buck is six feet one and seven eighths inches tall.” That sounds about right.

“Wow and would you look at that. You could put the two of you together and you make two normal sized people.” Sam remarks from the floor. He’s gathered the pillows as a headrest, but Bucky doesn’t understand why he’s there. The couch is literally right there and mostly empty. There’s room for him.

She doesn’t seem to have the same bone to pick with Sam. “Normal sized?” She shakes her head and her finger at him. “Get your ass over here Wilson, I wanna know how tall you are so I can make fun of it.”

The three boys are all shaking their heads at her, but Sam stands up straight to get his height, Steve hands over the tape measure, and Bucky lets her climb onto his back to get an accurate measurement of Sam.

You’re all still trying to figure out whether Sam is taller than Bucky or if someone is just a liar or doesn’t know how to work a measuring tape, when Natasha shows up. “I don’t even want to know what you’re doing,” Natasha tells them, and Bucky immediately lets her fall off his back and onto the couch. She grumbles until Natasha gives her something.

“Candy!” She announces just like a child. She really is just like a child sometimes. She grins at Natasha who smiles back. Then something clicks in her mind and she speaks even louder. “Sunshine and lollipops!” she shout sings animatedly. “Everything that’s, damn it what is it?”

Natasha just laughs at her and leaves. She’s now humming and repeating those words over and over again and getting nowhere. All Bucky can think is what the hell but that’s just how she is, so he ignores it.

He tries to ignore it, but it doesn’t work. Not when she unwraps the lollipop and begins to suck. Jesus Christ he needs to get laid. This should not be turning him on like this. He needs to leave and so he does, saving the image of her with her candy for a later time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just google expensive rums and copy and paste names? Yes.  
> Has someone else compared Captain America to Captain Morgan and Captain Crunch? Probably but I don't really care.  
> Did I go on a weird tangent with Admiral Nelson? Yes and you should be happy I cut a good part of that out lol.  
> Is there any reason for the after party bit on Monday? Nope, but it didn't fit anywhere else and I loved it too much to save it for another story.
> 
> Again, thanks for reading! :) 
> 
> Chapter title is from Paul Simon's You Can Call Me Al, which by the way really describes Bucky pretty damn well. Plus it gives him a nickname which I'm a sucker for :)


	6. I will not ask you where you came from

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter for you! Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it!

_Monday, November 6, 2017_

Natasha visits again after a long day of work. It had been terribly unproductive, with you talking circles around all of the points you were trying to make. So much for eloquence and professionalism, you were just trying to stay away from profanities at this point. To say you’re not in the mood for company would be an understatement.

Of course the Black Widow doesn’t give a single fuck about that. She’s snooping in your sad attempt at a closet when you return home. You’d like to say you’re surprised, but you’re not. After what had happened in the club and again in October, you get the feeling Natasha Romanoff will be by again in another week or two.

She’d returned your shoes a few weeks ago after borrowing them that night in Vanaheim. You didn’t have hers to give back, but she didn’t even ask. You figured she already knew that they had stayed in the club bathroom. If you had access to minuscule GPS trackers you’d probably put them on your Louboutins too.

She hadn’t stayed long enough to chat, but she did take you up on a shot of vodka and you had proudly stuck to juice. Tonight though, you’re not too sure you want to be sober for much longer.

You kick off your shoes, take off your coat, and turn up the heat both physically (by turning up the thermostat) and emotionally. “The fuck are you doing in my house?” You pour yourself a large glass of wine and try to remember what you ate for lunch. Did you eat lunch?

Natasha’s not bothered by your hostile outburst. Instead she picks up your coat off the floor and hangs it up. She even kicks your shoes by their place by the door before responding. “What? A friend can’t just drop in for a visit?”

Being friends with the Black Widow is on your wish list, but you’re still not in the mood for company. You bite your tongue in order to prevent you from ruining whatever this is building between the two of you.

“I actually need a favor.” Natasha’s here to request; this could get good. You gesture for her to keep talking while you take another sip or three of your wine. “I’m turning 34 in late November and some friends of mine-” you get the feeling these friends are similar enough to the way you and she are friends. “-decided to plan a birthday party for me.”

You’re not sure where the favor comes in. Surely the Black Widow has the resources to stop a birthday party if necessary? She’s taken out alien armies, would a couple of balloons and a birthday cake defeat her?

“What do you think?” You were definitely not listening to her, too busy thinking about poisonous birthday cakes and bombs hidden in balloons. Natasha sighs but it’s a playful sigh. She’s clearly in a good mood tonight. Too bad you are still very much not. “About coming, what do you say?”

You’re clearly still missing something here. “Coming where?” You remember the start of the conversation; there’s clearly a more important question here. “What’s the favor?”

“To my birthday party,” Natasha explains. “The favor is coming to it.” She keeps talking about how it wasn’t her idea and how she doesn’t have any control and that gifts are more than expected, they’re required, but you’re already in.

“Yes,” you tell her mostly so that you’ll get to go, but also so that she’ll stop talking. “I’ll be there. When, where, and um who? Who else’ll be there?” You won't admit it but you’re getting a bit nervous now. If someone like you managed to get on the guest list, it must be massive. There would probably be a lot of well-known people, celebrities even. And then of course her coworkers, the Avengers and well who do you know that’s an Avenger.

“He’ll be there,” Natasha says with a sly smile. “Steve and Sam too, but I figure that’s not who you’re thinking about.” Damn her and her perceptive eyes.

“So does this mean that you’ve gotten over the whole ‘you don’t know him stay a hundred million miles away from him’?” You’re saying this to tease her and her apparent change of mind, but mostly you want to know the answer. Is she no longer against the idea of, of whatever that would mean?

Natasha’s fingers tap on your kitchen countertop in a motion that is so human, but that you know to be very deliberate. The Black Widow doesn’t tap mindlessly, she calculates, and she must’ve calculated that showing a bit of humanity would sway you in some way.

“To be decided,” Natasha finally admits. “I still think it’s a terrible idea, but I’m not sure that it can be helped. You and Barnes. Well, you two will either end up together or end up destroying us all.” She gives you a solid stare. “That’s my prediction.”

Well what the hell is that supposed to mean? Is she some kind of fortune teller now? Does she think she can see the path the future will make? You decide not to go down that rabbit hole and go for something much more substantial: you and Barnes.

“Me and Barnes? No way in hell!” You tell her, but the blush creeping up your neck is giving you away.

“I would be willing to make a bet that something will happen,” she tells you straightforwardly. It’s impossibly rude.

“Willing to make a bet?” You finish your second glass of wine and start to pour a third. Natasha intercepts your arm reaching for the bottle and pours the rest straight down the drain. It’s unbearably rude, even if it’s something a stronger minded you would need to do.

“More than willing,” she tells you, now setting the empty bottle back down in front of you. As if you want it now. “Would you be interested in such a thing?” Your financial advisor if you had one would certainly not approve, but you can’t back down now. Not when the Black Widow just poured your $4 wine down the sink right in front of you.

“What are we betting on exactly?” You give her your best stare down. She doesn’t bat an eyelash. “It’s got to be precise. Nothing vague. And I want it in writing.” She has no words for that, just pulls out a piece of paper from a place in your apartment you didn’t know stored paper.

She spends a minute or two writing and then passes it over to you without a word. You read it over and grab the pen. You sign and date and then give it back to Natasha who does the same. “It’s official,” she tells you, offering a hand to shake.

“Mhmmm,” you say, really wishing you had that wine still. You flop onto your bed and watch Natasha fold up your paperwork and tuck it into her pocket. “Can you please leave now?” Natasha laughs at that and looks over you and your home.

“Wear that dress,” she tells you, pointing to the one stupid Richard had bought you a few weeks ago, “and check the mail. You’ll get a proper invite soon.” Right, the party. You can only hope that you’ll be in a better modo by the time that rolls around. Natasha wishes you goodnight and you’re left alone with your thoughts.

You think about the way Bucky looks at you, speaks to you, as if you’re special. As if you’re the only woman who likes to get dressed up every once in a while and go dancing. As if you’re the only woman who works a mediocre job at a large company. As if you’re the only woman he’s ever met.

Sure, you weren’t alive in the 40s but you’re pretty sure these aren’t new trends. And seriously, the way he stares sometimes is unnerving. Sometimes it’s like there’s nothing going on in that brain of his and other times it’s like you’re watching yourself watch him. It’s mesmerizing but it’s also bullshit. Utter bullshit.

His perception of you and possibly the rest of the universe is unreliable at best. And maybe he could say the same about you... The way his eyes would catch yours and you’d end up holding your breath, the way his hand had swung so easily into Richard’s stupid face, and the way his hair would- but anyway that’s not the point.

You’re not special or unique. You’re not even that different. There’s half a dozen other girls in your same apartment building who like the same things you do. Music, movies, spending time with friends. So why in the world have you of all people gotten in with the Avengers?

Is it just a fluke of the universe? Bucky saving you from those idiots who figured the contents of your backpack could buy them some more drugs? Was it just a weird coincidence when an Avengers level mission went to the same nightclub Richard did? Was it an even odder happenstance that you had decided to join him that night at Vanaheim?

Okay maybe not that last one. You’re done with Richard for real this time, but it wouldn’t be so hard to predict your movements if someone was watching you. All it took was one text from Rich and if you were in the right mood you’d be there in a flash, no doubt about it.

And the moods themselves. Maybe that was where you weren’t like the other half dozen girls in your apartment building. They probably didn’t take the same meds as you although you could certainly be wrong. But the thing is, you’d rather skip a dose than accidentally kill yourself mixing pills and drink. And so while you and the other girls all go out on the town, you’re probably in a slightly different headspace than the rest of the crew.

Of all the thoughts in the universe you keep coming back to this. You’re not sure who you are. What do you actually like? What are you actually like? You’re physically exhausted from a long day staring at screens, but you can’t stop mentally processing everything all it once.

Hypomania brings out things that you love about yourself. You’re funny and exciting and personable and everyone else loves you too. And if they don’t, well you simply don’t care. It’s all the good feelings, the out of control, tons of energy kind of feelings. It doesn’t last forever though. Just a few days or maybe a week or two until it runs out.

Letting it run out is good though. You’ve only reached the scary part of mania once and the thought of going back there is terrifying. So the excitement and the thrills wear off until you feel less and less and then nothing at all.

The depression lasts even longer, sometimes dragging on for months and months. But you are less reckless, and you are more stable. You meet your deadlines at work and if you spend the weekends hiding in bed, well no one’s there to judge. You might not get groceries, but you don’t need them once you’re manic again.

You had tried to explain it to a friend once but hadn’t done a good job of it. You were manic at the time and your rambles were unfocused and quite honestly embarrassing. And your journal entries? Even worse. It’s as if someone else wrote them and it’s so completely not you. But who are you? Are you the girl who feels out of control but doesn’t care?

You think painfully back to the conversation you had with Natasha on that first nighttime walk. Probably the very reason why she told you to stay away from Bucky Barnes.

_Thursday, July 27, 2017._

Natasha hadn’t even let you dry your hair before pulling you down the stairs and outside. She began walking at a brisk pace and after debating what would likely happen if you just went back inside, you followed her.

She hadn’t said a single word to you for eleven minutes. You know, you started a stopwatch on your phone. “So are we gonna talk?” The Black Widow gives you a look like ‘start talking,’ but you’re not sure what she wants to know. You don’t really know why she’s here in the first place.

“The card?” She says, clearly reading your mind. You think of homemade spaghetti sauce, of fresh baked brownies but she doesn’t react. She’s either just eaten dinner or she can’t read your mind. One of the two.

“It was cute.” The Black Widow thought your penguin thank you card was cute? Apparently this night can get weirder. “He liked it, you know,” she continues, not bothering to look at you. She can probably determine your entire body language just by the way you’re breathing.

“Okay?” You’re still not sure where this conversation is going. Is this all about the card? It’s not like you put anthrax in it. “Why are you here?” Getting straight to the point would be nice after 45 minutes of non-answers.

She asks you a few vague questions and you give her vague answers in return. They’re not vague enough though and you end up sharing far too much about your faulty decision making skills. That’s not even the worst bit. That happens once she makes you explain why you gave Bucky your damn email address.

Once this all through and you are thoroughly embarrassed (but also maybe proud?), the real stuff starts spilling out of you. Natasha doesn’t even have to ask proper questions to keep you speaking. A long enough pause and you’ll ramble to fill in all the gaps for her.

“So yeah, I was dumb.” You try to ignore the feeling that you’re going to really, really regret all of this and let the feeling that you can do no wrong take over. It’s surprisingly easy, after all, you’re letting your hypomania take the wheel.

“Who cares? Who wants to be in control when you feel like you have all the power. And I literally have the power. But my body can’t keep up with what’s all going on inside and it’s frustrating and smothering and I can’t fucking shut up. And then it turns into anxiety.”

Do you want to be saying any of this? No, not at all. But you just can’t seem to help it. Not when this has been building up over the last few days and not when Natasha’s not stopping you. In fact she’s practically encouraging you to talk. Of course this was her plan all along. You can’t do anything about it now. It’s too late.

“You see I’ve done this before though. I meet a cute guy and he does one thing or really nothing at all and I fall in love.” That was once again a bit too much, but you just can’t shut up. “I’m positive that I’ve just met my fucking soul mate and then guess what it doesn’t work out. He’s not the first guy and he won’t be the last. But I won’t sleep with him.”

Natasha remains quiet and by the power of some nonearthly being you manage to keep your mouth shut. At least for a moment. “At least I’m gonna try. I’d promise you I’m not gonna pursue him, but it won’t last. They don’t feel like fake promises, but they are. All my promises turn to shit.”

Natasha absorbs that carefully and then you’re back on your street. “Don’t contact him again,” Natasha tells you plainly. “Don’t. No letters, no texts, no nothing. If you run into him, you don’t know him.”

You feel like shit, but she’s got a good point. Nothing good will come out of this if you let him turn into just another one of the men you fuck and leave. “And if I see him at work?” You’re not sure if you sound hopeful or nervous, but Natasha probably knows.

“You won’t see him. I’ll make sure of it.” You’d love to know exactly how Natasha intends to keep her promise or if she’s just as bad as you at keeping them. Time will tell. You take your key out of your pocket and in that half second Natasha has vanished. You slowly take the stairs up to the fourth floor. Just another day in the life.

All of your confidence is hypomania and it’s fading fast. Fuck your unreliable though processes. Fuck your unreliable brain.

_The Weekend of November 18, 2017_

You had spent the night after the party in a guest room. Not exactly what you planned but it worked out okay. You managed to slip out before anyone noticed your change in state of mind. You didn’t mean to have a drink. In fact you had taken a page out of Bucky’s book and started with a soda in a fancy glass. But then Tony Stark, your boss’s boss’s boss’s (times like five more) boss’s boyfriend, had offered you some top shelf rum and to refuse would only be rude.

One drink had turned into two and then karaoke had started. You had to take a shot before that, and you were glad you did so when Bucky showed up right before it was your turn. God he looked so good with his suit jacket off and his shirt sleeves rolled up. You knew he didn’t like his metal arm, everyone and their mother knew that thanks to the tabloids, but you didn’t mind it one bit. In fact it was hot as hell.

So what if the song you chose wasn’t a duet. You wanted him up there with you, an unusual occurrence for the mood you had been in. At the top of the highest mountain, you did not want to share the limelight, and yet you felt even higher with him beside you.

He didn’t do much but shuffle around as you tried to get him to dance and he didn’t know any of the words even when they were right up there on the screen, but it was still so damn fun. You took his hand in yours and the audience cheered you on. It was euphoric.

Then of course Tony Stark had to go and ruin it all. The smell of vomit made you feel queasy, but once you got dragged away with Natasha and another vodka soda, you were fine. You lost track of Bucky, but figured he went to bed after he was left in his socks. A girl can go barefoot on the dance floor, but a man barefoot would just be wrong and a shoeless man in socks is only one layer from all that wrongness. It was for the best that he left.

Especially since Natasha still did not approve of you spending any time with him. She had cheered and applauded as you sang, but you’re pretty sure that even if Stark hadn’t tossed his cookies, you wouldn’t have been with Bucky for much longer.

So it became a girl’s night and you had headed back out to the dwindling crowd. Supposedly non-Avengers guests were to leave at midnight. But here you were, a non-Avenger, and still here. Dancing with Wanda and Natasha lost its appeal around three am and at that point you simply couldn’t walk home.

The birthday girl put you in the elevator and told some invisible butler to lead you upstairs. The directions of the invisible butler must’ve been excellent because even in your blacked out state, you made it into a guest room.

There must be some magic in the air at Avengers Tower or maybe it was just sleeping on a genuinely high quality mattress, but you wake up feeling good. Not great, you’ve got a killer headache, but your spirits are still high. Normally the night after a single drop of alcohol turns into a downward spiral, but by some magic you’re still feeling the same pep as you did with a microphone in your hand waiting for your song to come on.

You let yourself relax in the 5000 thread count sheets and daydream about your night. Every time he had stared at you and you had felt your heart rate speed up. Was that just a sign of hypomania or was it just the fact that he’s the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and he was looking at you. Like really looking at you. Not in the way he did that first night, but oddly enough, the way he looked at you at Club Vanaheim

It was as if he’s trying to absorb as much of you as he possibly can with his eyes. If he was an artist like Steve maybe it would make more sense. But he’s not, he’s just Bucky and he looked at you like he’ll never forget.

But maybe that’s the point. He had too much forgetting and so now he just stares at everyone, everything like that because he doesn’t want to forget. That makes so much more sense. Why would he ever look at you like that. Do you really think you’re that wonderful? Great, maybe the hypomania is already starting up again. It does feel better than the alternative though. This wave isn’t crashing back down just yet.

_Tuesday, December 12, 2017._

The wave does crash a few days after Natasha’s party, and it remains that way for a long spell. The holiday season is in full swing and you’re just grateful it’s no longer unreasonable to wear sweaters as cozy as blankets anymore. You’ve spent more time than you’d like to admit at Avengers Tower and not just your normal nine to five.

Somehow this has been deemed acceptable by whoever is in charge. You figure the bodyless voice you first met in the elevator might be behind it all. You thought maybe you had made it up in your drunken state, but there was definitely a female voice echoing around the Tower. At least the personal upper levels anyway.

Thanks to whatever security measures the Black Widow lifted for you and the female voice, you’re hanging out with Sam and Steve. The Sam and the Steve. The Falcon and the Captain America. You can’t believe it either.

Despite the excitement of chilling out with the Avengers you can’t help but bring some of the stress of work with you. Deadlines keep creeping closer and your mood isn’t helping. You’re crabby but also don’t want to be alone right now. Even if that means putting up with personal questions.

“So will be you seeing family over the holidays?” Steve sounds nonchalant, but you know his motives. Why he doesn’t just use his resources to learn your social security number and ever thing else you don’t know. He could also just ask Natasha. But of course the Captain America doesn’t play that way. No, he’s got to question you himself.

You shake your head to answer his question. “Any Christmas plans?” Great now Sam is teaming up against you. You put down your phone and wonder if you can borrow a charger. They may be super powered people, but they do have cell phone chargers, right? They certainly hang out the same way the rest of the population does: snacking despite dinner approaching and feet up on the couch.

You evade answering that with another shake of the head. Sam flips the channel to sports and turns up the volume. You think the questioning is over but then a commercial break comes on and Sam mutes the TV. Sam and Steve turn to look at you. “Fine. No holiday plans,” Sam stares right through your whole body. “Are you gonna tell us anything about you?”

“What do you mean? I’m an open book,” you say sarcastically. Truth is, if they had asked these questions last week you would’ve spilled it all and more. Right now you’re not the same chatterbox. You’re feeling so very different from the last time you saw these too you wonder if it’s time to leave.

“Three questions,” Steve informs you. It’s not a question and it’s not an option. You doubt he’ll block the exits to prevent you from escaping, but you can also answer three questions. They probably deserve something just by letting you be here in their presence. You nod your head and Steve asks.

“So you work in client services.” You mumble something in response, but Steve’s not done talking. “It’s not exactly specific. Care to elaborate?”

You laugh at that. No, you do not care to elaborate. “Not really. But you’re right client services is as vague as it gets. Just about everything is a service whether it’s making burgers or coding software or writing legislature, right? And anyone who receives such service is therefore a client, right?”

You’re talking out of your ass, but how else can you dig yourself out of this one? You’ll need to remember in the future that Steve Rogers doesn’t forget things. You probably should’ve known that from the start, but too late now.

“So what you do, is it more on the side of flipping burgers or writing code?” Sam’s taking over with questioning. Is this a rehearsed attack? Did they plan this? You haven’t asked him a single question about his stupid wings, or his beloved redwing so why can’t he take the hint?

“Neither,” you say in an attempt to be charming. It fails. It always falls flat when you’re like this. “It’s much more traditional client services. You know. There’s a defect in the product and I make sure it gets fixed. Stuff like that.” It’s still vague as hell, but it was intended to be so.

“And the product is?” Great now Steve is back in control of this conversation. You should’ve figured as much. From the little time you’ve spent with Captain America he’s been a bit of a control freak. Plus he’s plenty nosy.

“Super-duper secretive,” you say. “Plus it’d go way over your head. Your little brain simply couldn’t handle it.” It’s certainly not true, but who cares. If they’re so interested they can read your job description on LinkedIn or just ask around. I mean you literally work here.

“Try me.” Sam’s overconfident which you’re starting to think is a personality trait of his. You barely know these people, but you have been seeing them on the TV for a while now. Seeing them in person in their own habit is a bit like putting all of the pieces together and realizing you’ve got a different puzzle than what was on the box.

“I’d like to try you on literally anything else,” you say. It comes out more sexual than you intended, but at least it ends the conversation. You just aren’t in the mood for any of this. The boys seem to understand that they’ll have to save their last question for later. They watch TV until Sam goes to get Bucky. You’re not sure why but whatever. You wouldn’t mind seeing Barnes again.

Sam returns with Bucky and it’s clear that he didn’t let Barnes know you were there. He looks cute in his sweatpants though. The four of you sit for a while, but then Steve and Sam leave on the premise of picking up food for dinner.

You get the feeling that this was definitely some kind of scheme between the two of them and judging by the look on Bucky’s face he knows it too. You just hope that Bucky’ll be able to get them back for this. You doubt you can pull one over two superheroes.

Despite Bucky’s glaring, Sam and Steve leave with promises to be back later with pizza. And then it’s just the two of you alone. It’s still nice, just a different kind of nice. At least Bucky’s not asking questions about your job. He’s not nosy like that.

It’s quiet with the TV off and you start to feel your skin crawling, You don’t want to be like this right now. You want to be the you that Bucky’s been dancing with. You want to be the girl who makes the people laugh and the boys stare. You want to be something other than this sinking feeling that you should’ve just gone home after work.

You ask the formless voice in the ceiling to turn on some music. She offers to play a variety of playlists belonging to Steve and Sam. You wonder if there’s an Avengers Spotify and if Bucky’s music is on private or if he just doesn’t know how to make a playlist. You choose Sam’s because you figure he was at least born in the last century.

It’s a massive mistake.

_We could just kiss like real people do._

“God this song is too fucking romantic.” Ugh. Why did you say that? Bucky probably wasn’t even listening to the song, let alone paying attention to the lyrics, but now he is. He probably was busy thinking about important things and now he’s looking at you again.

Why did you even have to speak at all? Why must you feel the need to go over the top whenever you’re not automatically there already? Why do you have to make everything so fucking awkward the second his blue eyes glance at you?

And why do his eyes have to be so goddamn blue?

Bucky Barnes sits two feet away from her, wondering what’s going through her mind. The only thing running through his mind is how he wishes things were different. If only he was different.

Maybe if he had a different body, a different arm. Maybe if hadn’t killed innocent people. Maybe if he was a different person entirely. It’s pretty clear to the masses that Bucky hated his arm. Stark had even offered Steve to do something about it, but the fact that Steve, not Bucky, had to have the conversation with Tony about his own arm is telling enough.

Stark doesn’t want anything to do with Bucky. No one does. And that makes perfect sense to Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and song from the end is Hozier's Like Real People Do.


	7. Nothing's gonna change my world

_Thursday, January 4, 2018_

Bucky’s daydreaming on the couch when she arrives. Daydreaming about her in fact. Too busy wondering about what could’ve been different last night if things had been, well a little different. Maybe if he had been a little different.

That song had been playing and yes he did listen to every word. _We should just kiss like real people do._ He had been thinking about whether she chose it and if it meant something anything at all and then she had made it impossibly clear that it didn’t. It meant nothing at all. But what if it did?

He’s so busy daydreaming about her, he doesn’t hear her speak. “Wanna come with?” She asks him, clearly repeating herself, but thankfully not sounding annoyed.

“Where?” He’s not sure how much of the conversation he had missed. God, he hopes he hadn’t been looking particularly stupid, or even worse staring at her. Yikes, this could turn bad quick.

“Anywhere,” she tells him plainly. “Anywhere in the whole world. Or actually anywhere in the United States, I can’t find my passport. Or actually anywhere within a few miles, I’ve only got a few hours to go and do anything.”

He’s pretty sure she’s done amending her statement, but he doesn’t know how to respond. He’s not sure why he’s being left to decide, but she’s not offering up any suggestions either. “A park,” he offers weakly. She nods encouragingly, waiting for him to decide which park out of all the parks. “Prospect Park,” he decides, his voice firmer this time.

She nods again and off they go. She refuses to take a car or his bike and instead Bucky gets dragged onto the metro. It’s not as bad as he thought it would be and he wonders what else isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. But maybe it’s just how he feels today and who he’s with. Surely not every day is like this.

They arrive and suddenly Bucky’s back to feeling at a loss. He doesn’t have a clue of what they’re supposed to do now that they’re here. She said she wanted to go and to do and he had entirely forgotten about the second half.

She doesn’t mind though, stealing his hat and intertwining their arms. “So Betty, how’s your day going today?” Bucky can’t think of anything that happened today other than how close she was to him on the train and how her hair smelled so familiar and the way she’s looking at him right now, waiting for an answer.

“Fine, I’ll go first,” she tells him easily keeping up the conversation all by herself. “I had a shitty morning because every morning is shitty and then I had an exhausting half day at work because work is exhausting, and now I am here, and I can breathe again.” She pauses to gauge his reaction.

“At least until my dentist appointment at 4. Then I’ll just have to pretend to fall asleep so that they don’t ask me questions when I don’t want to give answers. How are you supposed to talk with all that stuff in your mouth anyway? Like what if I chip a tooth on their plaque picker just so that I can tell them I still work at the same stupid job?”

That definitely breaks the ice. Bucky laughs at the image of her at the dentist. He despises the dentist, but he also intends to keep all of his teeth until the day he dies, which means biannual visits. “I’m doing great,” he tells her, answering her question from earlier. “Right now I am doing excellent. There’s a breeze in the air and a squirrel in the tree, and an even nuttier creature right beside me.” He nudges her in the ribs, and she rolls her eyes at him.

“And before right now,” she asks him patiently. Of course that’s the answer she was looking for and the answer he doesn’t want to give.

“Alright,” he says. “I liked the subway,” he tells her knowing that it’s not a subway due to the above ground sections. She doesn’t smile, but her face isn’t unfriendly. She's just waiting for more. He’s not sure why it’s so hard for him to admit that he had a bad day, but it is.

“Today was hard,” he finally admits. “Didn’t sleep well last night and yeah the day’s not so great. But hey, a little fresh air has cured me I think.” He smiles at her and it’s not the least bit fake. He really does feel cured and as light as a feather.

She shivers as the wind whips her hair around her in a halo, sending his hat flying. He grabs it and puts it back on her head. “Plus it’s nice to be back here. My old grounds you know. Did Steve tell you about any of this?”

“I don’t think so. Oh wait would that be him talking about a kid who saved him from every bully and stole pencils for him and who was forever by his side?” She’s poking fun at him, but it feels good. It feels good to remember who he and Steve used to be. It feels good to know that Steve still remembers it. It feels even better to know that Steve had told her and that she now knows about it too.

“Alright, you got me. I won’t tell you any stories about Steve embarrassing himself.” She frowns and looks ready to complain. “I want to hear about you,” he explains quickly. “Tell me about you. What were you like as a kid? Did you grow up here too?”

She frowns slightly but answers all the same. “Well no, I’m not from here originally. I grew up in the Midwest, but I went to school out east and after graduating I figured New York City was as good as any other city.” They take a second to look around. Bucky figures Prospect Park is as good as any other park, and so he thinks he understands what she means. 

“And your family?” Bucky’s not sure why he’s so interested in learning more about her, but he is. He normally hates talking about this stuff, hates telling people about his parents and sisters, but he just needs to know more about her. Anything more will do.

“Well my father left when I was young, so I don’t really know him. But I have an older brother and my mother. My brother and I we couldn’t be more different but also so much the same which makes us impossible to be around or so my mother says. So yeah I don’t visit home often.”

“Your mother doesn’t miss you?” Bucky doesn’t mean to be so forward, but sometimes he just can’t help but speak his mind. She’s no longer linked with him arm in arm and he’s not sure when that changed.

“Well she does. I’m sure she does.” She’s struggling to come up with the right thing to say, but not in a painful way that makes Bucky cringe and regret asking. No, she looks thoughtful and reminiscent. It’s a good look on her. “But she’s always picked his side over mine. And well, I was definitely a handful or two growing up and so I don’t blame her. I don’t blame him either,” she adds. “It’s just how things ended up.”

“I see,” Bucky says although he doesn’t really get it. If any of his sisters were alive he’s not sure he’d leave things to just end up someplace. No, he’d make sure they landed just right. But all the same he understands that family is a complicated thing. I mean look at his, the Avengers are a family according to Steve and they are the definition of dysfunctional. Except in battle maybe.

“Ice cream?” She asks him, grabbing his hand in hers. She’s ready to change the conversation and he doesn’t blame her.

“It’s winter,” he says, already knowing that it doesn’t matter. Not at all. The seasons don’t matter when she’s around. It all bends to her will and whims.

Their day in the park becomes somewhat of a tradition as the weather warms up and then freezes again overnight. It’s not the best company he’s ever had, but hey, it’s something. It’s definitely something.

_Sunday, January 7, 2017._

She hums a four note tune that Bucky has gotten to know very well over these past few days. He’s spent time with her three out of the last four days. It’s wonderful. Bucky sighs louder than necessary. “You know you don’t need to hum that every time you buy something right?”

She smiles at him and hands him his hot dog. “Oh I don’t just hum it,” she explains sweetly. “I sing it in my head. Would you prefer to hear it?”

He shakes his head adamantly. He does love the sound of her voice, but he’s not going to admit it, not ever. “Besides you’re not a big, big spender. I don’t think you could ever be a big, big spender,” he teases her.

“You must not have seen me online shopping.” She puts her wallet away and he hands her back her food. “Ah, you’re right though. I’m not a big, big spender,” she tells him, smirking. “But whenever I’m with you then therefore by comparison I am a big, big spender.” This time she sings the last three words and Bucky fails to keep his face neutral.

“But don’t worry about it. I like paying for food for you. Keep you big and strong.” She grabs his bicep and squeezes. He’s not sure if he should let his arm go limp or flex or just pretend like nothing happened at all, but he’s forced to go with the third when she continues on without further comment.

“Do you know what?” she asks, and he just barely holds himself back from saying something rude in response. He’s trying to be less snarky but it’s hard. He can’t read her mind or anything. She knows that by now. “Steve said you were terribly fond of me.”

“Steve’s not British.” Her accent or really he should say her attempt at an accent is horrendous. Peggy Carter would’ve died of laughter upon hearing it. Steve probably would’ve appreciated hearing it. He’s gotta come up with a way to have her do this again when Steve’s around.

“Duh, I know that.” She says, jostling her body into his. Whether she does this to bother him or because she can’t walk on her own two feet is yet to be determined. “He’s literally Captain America, Betty. What do you think I lost my brain or something?”

Yes, Bucky does wonder that sometimes. “Then why’d you say it in that terrible accent,” he’s not really asking but she doesn’t mind. He knows she doesn’t mind, and it’s probably because of the lack of irritation in his voice. He needs to work on that.

“Whatever do you mean? Not this lovely accent, darling?” She’s fake offended and it’s charming as hell. Bucky rolls his eyes at her, trying to keep up some semblance of dissatisfaction of how his day is going. Truth be told, his days only get better with her.

_Thursday, February 8, 2018_

They’ve been going out and about the city for nearly a month now and yet Bucky still doesn’t know much about her. Other than what she mentioned about her family briefly on that cold day in Prospect Park, she rarely talks about herself. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t talk.

On days when she’s in the mood to wrangle Bucky up and out of the Tower, she’s a walking talking machine, high off hearing herself speak. She tells him about all of her dreams. Boring ones where she dreams she’s run out of cereal and then in the morning when she wakes, it’s still there ready to be eaten. Exciting dreams too, where she can relive the past or fight ninja warriors dressed in parachute pants.

She describes her days and the people she meets. People she’s never met but pretends to know all about when they see them on the street. She makes up stories about how they just got their wisdom teeth removed or about how it’s their 40th wedding anniversary or today’s their child’s violin concert and they’re going to be late. She explains cultural references that Bucky can’t keep track of, and her stories are so absurd Bucky’s not sure where the exaggerations begin and the lies end.

It doesn’t matter though, because he can’t get enough of her. She disappears for weeks at a time with excuses flying in a dime a dozen, but he just wishes he knew why. He wants to see her even when she’s got food poisoning for the third time that month. She either needs some better excuses or needs to invest in a meat thermometer. It doesn’t matter to him; he just wants more.

Anyway, they’re out and Bucky’s wearing his best disguise: a plain baseball cap borrowed from Cap himself. She’s already tried to steal it off of his head, but she’s not quite tall enough, especially when he holds it way above his own head. It defeats the purpose of wearing the hat, but it is fun. The rest of the world thinks they’re childish, but Bucky prefers that over whatever the world usually thinks of him.

She tires of it and soon dedicates her eyesight to her phone, which only means Bucky has to be twice as alert as normal. She can be described as anything from klutzy to suave but right now she’s definitely on the klutzy side of things. She’s been a bit more irritable today and despite him having to save her from face planting twice now, she’s yet to thank him. He doesn’t really mind.

“Okay, I’ve got to go,” she announces out of the blue, putting her phone back into her pocket. They’ve been out less than an hour and Bucky’s a bit disappointed. He was hoping they’d be able to do a little more people watching; he’s been getting more creative with people’s elaborate backstories and he wants to know what she thinks. He wants to make her laugh the way she does to him.

“Want a ride?” He offers easily, trying not to expect too much. He has before and besides, he already knows her answer.

“On that death trap? No way in hell. Besides I already have a ride.” She pulls out her phone again without giving him a second glance.

Bucky isn’t sure how to remind her that she had already taken a ride on a so called death trap. But maybe that was different. After all it was Steve. And he is not Steve. “Ryan again?” He asks, curious to know who will be giving her a ride if not him, but also trying to not sound that curious.

“No I dumped that loser weeks ago. Seriously Bucky, if you want to pretend to know my exes, you’re gonna need a better informant than your own fading memory.” There’s something missing in the pep of her words, but he takes it all in stride.

“Fine, if not Ryan then who is it this time?” He tries to think of some of the other guys he’s heard her mention in passing. Maybe a Michael? Or was it a Matthew?

“No, actually it’s my coworker Craig.” Yikes. Had he really started guessing out loud? She’s back on her phone but this time she sees that the contact’s name on the top of the screen is in fact Craig.

“Craig?” Bucky scoffs at the name. If he hadn’t seen the name with his own two eyes he’d think she were joking. Even after seeing it, it still feels like a joke. After all his number in her phone is saved as Betty, which is certainly not his name.

She looks up at him, unamused. “For someone named Bucky, you sure seem to have strong opinions on the name Craig.”

“I wasn’t named Bucky; my name is James.” She knows this and he knows she knows this, but it feels important to mention out loud.

“Trust me Betty, you’re not helping your case. Choosing to go by Bucky when you have a nice normal name like James is just not normal. Simply abnormal.” Now she’s looking at least partially amused.

“Okay, fine, Craig.” He takes the bait too easily. But is it bait for a conversation she wants to have or something different altogether? Is it bait at all or is he really just that desperate these days? “Who is he? The newest boyfriend?”

“First of all, none of my men are boyfriends. They’re just, I don’t they just don’t matter.” The look on her face is unfamiliar to him. Not reminiscent but maybe perturbed? Bucky’s been working on his vocabulary.

“Call them whatever you want. My lovers my boys, it’s all bullshit.” Bucky fake shudders dramatically in response to her more lighthearted tone. “Entirely bullshit,” she mutters under her breath, back to sounding agitated.

“And Craig is definitely not my boy.” She adds, attempting to clear things up some more. “He’s a coworker. He thinks of me as a daughter. Or possibly a granddaughter I'm not too sure how old he is. You two probably have a lot in common actually.”

She ends with cheerfulness and Bucky groans at that in response. Not because of her joy at poking fun, but because his displeasure is what brings her the joy. “Okay fine,” he shrugs amicably. “If you say you’re in safe hands then I’m out of here. Have fun doing your, what is it antique shopping?”

“Very funny.” She’s about to shoot back a pithy remark probably about his age, he is turning 101 soon, but an old car shows up and honks. An old man who actually looks his age, exits the automobile and waves charismatically at the two of them.

“Ready for the movies?” The man calls out, ignoring the fact that he has parked on a somewhat busy street right next to a no parking sign. Of course she would be friends with this man. Despite the distinct difference in appearance, they are clearly kindred spirits.

“The movies?” Bucky asks. He feels like he’s living a dream, maybe living in a movie. He’s not sure if he should warn them to get a bigger boat or that the dinosaurs will find a way out of their cages. He’s not sure if any of this is real.

“Yes,” she says simply before waving energetically back at Craig. She jogs over to the car whose position has caused a fair amount of honking. Bucky follows along, feeling a bit as if he’s sleep walking. Or maybe just daydreaming. Or maybe just thinking. He’s got a fair amount to process right now.

“Will you be joining us, sir?” Craig asks kindly after introducing himself with no verbal response from Bucky. He’s just unable to find words when something’s missing. If only he knew what it was. It’s for the best though. If he were to speak it would be impossibly rude. He’d end up asking what the hell she was doing with 70 year old Craig instead of him. He might be 100, but he doesn’t feel it yet.

“Great question, Craig,” she says with bite. She’s still in a mood for whatever reason. Someone’s gotta respond and it’s clear to her that Bucky is still at a loss for words. “Will you be joining us, Barnes?”

“I’m afraid I have other plans,” he tells them, still not offering Craig more than an eighth of a smile. “But I must ask, where exactly do you plan on going?” Steve would be proud. He’s retained his manners and asked a question Steve himself has asked him dozens of times.

“Oh,” Craig smiles amicably. “We go to Amarello Theatre for their black and white showings every Thursday. It’s a Streetcar Named Desire this afternoon.” He gestures between the two of them, “we have a standing meeting to go over the weeks work and we find that seeing a picture is always much more beneficial for the company than sitting down in our cubicles all day long.”

Bucky’s mouth moves towards a quarter of a smile without his permission. She and this old man are going to the movies instead of doing whatever Stark Industry employees do. “The work gets done beforehand,” she adds, probably not wanting to appear like too much of a slacker. “It’s all complete and discussed and determined and then we go to the movies to clear our minds out and then we can mull it over properly before we hit send.”

Bucky gives her a nod and opens the car door for her. The second she’s inside she forgets all about him and is chattering with Craig about who knows what. And if Bucky goes home and watches a Streetcar Named Desire, well no one else has to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the Beatles' Across the Universe
> 
> I plan to do a lot of writing this weekend and subsequently update a lot. I'm still on track to finish posting all 20 chapters before F&WS comes out :)


	8. Just follow my lead for once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action side of the plot finally starts picking up! I hope you enjoy!

_Tuesday, February 27, 2017._

You haven’t seen Bucky since you abandoned him to see a movie with Craig. The movie was good, but your mind was distracted. You weren’t sure how badly you had offended Bucky. You did enjoy spending time with him, hell you had invited him that afternoon, but an hour into it you had to bail.

You were overthinking it all again and then it had all worked out nicely. Craig was free to catch a film and you had already bailed on work early. You probably should’ve invited Bucky along, but this thing with Craig was just the two of you. Ever since his granddaughter whined through all of Casablanca, you haven’t invited guests.

Craig wouldn’t mind Bucky though, you’re sure of it. Bucky was quiet and knew to wait and see what happens rather than ask every five minutes what’s going in and how much longer this is gonna take. Craig and Bucky would definitely get along and why are you even thinking about this?

It’s ridiculously pointless. Despite bailing on work early that day you’ve been more dedicated to your career recently. Falling into the procedures and the internal systems is easier than thinking about your personal life. Even hard to work with clients are easier to deal with than your own emotions.

So you’ve been staying busy with work but you’re also just trying to stay motivated. Your medications have stabilized you, but you’re still not sure where you stand. Every night you reevaluate your day and wonder if something new is starting up or if it’s all in your head.

Subsequently, you haven’t been spending much time with Bucky. You’ve been keeping your distance since it seems like the best course of action. Yes, he has seen you in both ups and downs and he didn’t seem to mind, but you still aren’t comfortable with explaining things to him. You’re not sure how much he understands about mental health in the 21st century and you don’t want to be the one explaining it to him.

Thinking it over you actually have seen Bucky more recently than slamming the car door in his face to leave with Craig. February 13th he had dropped by unexpectedly with a book that Steve had mentioned to you in passing one time. You’re pretty sure Bucky didn’t come entirely of his own accord, but you were mad at him anyway.

Going behind your back to determine your address and then to show up announced? Not okay. Super creepy actually. You sent him away without seeing his face, refusing to even buzz him inside the building. You were in the middle of watching your favorite TV show for the twentieth time, and guests were the last thing you needed.

But that wasn’t the last time you saw him either. No, they day after, yes Valentine’s Day, he showed up again. Either the boy was too oblivious to read a calendar, or someone was setting him up, or he was trying to make a move? Nah, if he was trying to do that he’d surely pick a better way to go about doing so.

Someone trying to woo you wouldn’t ask you in a super cringey text if they could show up after work. Not to ask to hang out or if you have plans, but to ask if he could show up at your apartment. You had to admit that you did like the idea of him having to ask permission just to show up at your building. After the previous night he wasn’t taking any chances.

But still, even if he was trying to be prepared or even if he was trying to old fashioned court you, it just wasn’t right. After all, he bought you friendship flowers for Valentine’s Day. Who does that? Sure he did need to grovel after showing up uninvited the day before, but still it was weird. Friendship flowers. He had made it very clear and once they were in your hands he was out the door and gone. So weird.

And you had been feeling weird about him lately too. Like you had shown him your insides and he felt queasy at the sight of blood. Which wasn’t true by the way. When you thought you had lost a finger in the kitchen slicing carrots, he had bandaged you up without a double take. That stuff came naturally him. Other stuff, not so much.

_Wednesday, February 28, 2018._

You stayed up way too late the night before pondering if Bucky’s friendship flowers which lay dying on your counter mean something. Other than friendship of course. You come to zero final conclusions and end up with nearly the same amount of sleep.

You feel like shit and after an unproductive day at work, you decide to go for a quick run to clear your mind. It doesn’t work. You keep overthinking and wondering if this thing with Bucky is gonna end in disaster.

You think about your ex boyfriends. How things with them never worked out. Even kissing Kyle in the 7th grade ended in middle school atrocities. Everything seemed to go even further downhill from there. All the way to rich Richard and his sleazy friends. Why had you ever spent time with him.

Were you a gold digger? Were you just horny for him and his muscles? Were you just that lonely or that desperate or that afraid you were going to be alone for the rest of your life with nothing left but your name when it ends?

That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that they all started out just like this. You’d see a face from across the room and fall in love. Someone would hold a door open for you and you’d have to stop yourself from imagining your entire future with them. Every single one of these massive relationship failures including Kyle and Richard has started out perfectly perfect.

They started with heart eyes and the feeling in your chest you get when you’re in the same room with Bucky Barnes. But it’s not exactly like this. Usually you moved on pretty quick. You’re honestly kind of surprised you even remember Richard’s name considering you haven’t hooked up with him since September. But maybe that’s part of the problem.

You haven’t hooked up with anyone in a long time. That’s not entirely abnormal either. Depending on your mood you can be a fiend or a puritan. But normally whether you hooked up or not, you’d move on from a guy and forget him. Even with some regrets you still can’t remove Bucky from your mind.

You’re still afraid of what might happen if you are too reliant on him if you don’t rely on him at all. Which way is better? Which is way is worse? Can you even decide? Do you have any control at all? You return from your run and it seems like the universe is trying to tell you something: you have no control at all.

Your apartment is a mess. You must’ve forgotten to lock your damn door on your way out. You were so focused on your own thoughts you were a forgetful idiot again. But this time it’s bad, really bad. You start to walk inside, but something is just so wrong about it all.

It’s like it’s not even your own room and you have to check the number by the door to make sure you’re at the right apartment. This isn’t your home. That’s the quilt your grandmother made for you on the floor and that’s your spatula in the doorway, but this isn’t right.

The wind blows your curtains aside and you see your window wide open. You shiver once the air hits your skin and you turn around and walk away. You’re not sure if you close the door, but you’re also pretty sure there’s no point.

Maybe if you just continue with your run you can wake up in another timeline where this isn’t your life. Where none of this is real. Your feet scramble down the stairs and once you're back outside you start to panic.

Some people glance at you, but you’re still dressed for a run so you could just as easily be out of breath from a workout. This isn’t right. Not at all. You begin to run and you’re not sure why you can’t just face this like an adult. Cause that’s what you are. You are an adult who is responsible and capable or reporting a break-in to the authorities.

You step into your local laundromat and pretend to read the flyers on the wall advertising for tutoring and missing pets. You fumble with your phone and nearly drop it on the floor. At least you’re alone in here and no one except the washing machines can see your hands shake.

You unlock your phone and call the first person you see. He’s your most recent outgoing call even if it’s from weeks ago from a different side of you. He’s the only person you want to hear from right now.

“Hey um hi,” your voice shakes through your phone. At least you’ve got just over thirty percent battery remaining. You listen to Bucky mumble a deep hello. Was he asleep? It’s only ten but he did always have the weirdest sleep schedule. Why are you thinking about that now? Why do you even know this?

“I know it’s um been a while.” God you sound like a child. “But um, I didn’t know who to call.” Your voice breaks on those words and you can hear movement on the other side of the line. He probably was asleep.

“What’s going on?’ He’s serious now and sounding very concerned. You cover the speaker to take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“I’m not too sure, but I think I need some help,” you admit weakly. More movement in the background. He’s probably finding proper clothes for the February chill. You wish you had dressed warmer as well. Now that you’re not running and the endorphins are wearing off, you can feel yourself shake. But maybe that’s not all due to the temperature.

“I went for a run,” you start to explain, but he stops you and you’re glad. You’re not sure how to explain what happened and why you’re acting this way. These things happen to normal everyday people. It happened to you so why can’t you act like a normal person?

You can hear him open his car door and start the engine. “Where are you?” he asks, and you wipe your eyes before answering. Is this even necessary? Why are you calling him? You should just call the police! It’s just a break-in, so why do you feel like your body is dissolving? And now Bucky’s on his way?

He’s really only seen you when you’re at the top of the world, or at least you’ve tried to make yourself appear that way. Even when you were depressed before, you could hide it. This time you won't be able to. No one likes you when you’re like this. Even if more clear headed than with hypomania, you don’t like you like this.

“I’m on my way. You’re gonna be okay,” he tells you and you know it’s true. He’s not gonna let anything bad happen to you.

Bucky’s speeding down the street, trying to control his breathing. The second he picked up the phone he knew something was wrong. He hates himself for doing nothing, for being asleep when he could’ve done something. He should’ve done something.

This could be nothing at all and he sure hopes it is, but if anything like what his mind is going to right now, he’s gonna be ready. No one will lay a damn finger on her without her permission when he’s around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Dominic Fike's Wurli.


	9. I'll give you all of me until there's nothing left

_Wednesday, February 28, 2018._

He feels like he can breathe again once he sees her. She’s standing beside the dryers at her local laundromat and she’s shaking. He pulls the car up and starts to get out, but she’s already running over to the car. He gets out anyway and before letting her enter the vehicle he pulls her into a tight hug. She’s freezing cold, without a coat in February.

He lets her go after a second and opens the passenger side door for her to enter. He closes it behind her and jogs to the other side. “I was out for a run,” she explains before he’s even had the chance to sit back down. He locks the doors, puts on his seatbelt, and starts to drive back to the Tower. He probably broke a few speeding laws on the way here, but now that she’s here he can be a little more cautious and law abiding.

“What happened? Did someone follow you on your run?” He’s heard of plenty of stories of men following women on their runs or cat calling them or just being all around jerks. It happened in the 40s, but he had hoped modern times would’ve learned to respect women. I was a disappoint for sure. He wouldn’t be surprised something similar has happened to her too.

“No, I don’t think so,” she says, looking outside the car window to see if anyone is following them. She's still shaking, and Bucky wishes he had brought a blanket from his bed or his coat to drape over her.

“Someone broke into my apartment,” she says. “I don’t know why I called you. I should’ve just alerted the authorities and just, I don’t know, done whatever they told me to do.” Her voice is shaky and uncertain. Bucky turns the heat up to full blast. She holds her hands up to the vents to feel the hot air flow. “Sorry for waking you,” she adds.

He was asleep, had been since four in the afternoon when the world had just become too much for him, but there’s no need for her to apologize. He’s alert and ready and he’s here to help. Just how to help he’s not entirely sure.

He wishes there was someone he could beat up or at least threaten. He doubts whoever broke in decided to stick around. He’s got too much energy to sit around and do something smart. He wants to fight.

All the same he knows step one is to get her somewhere safe. Once she’s in the Tower he can check out the scene and track down whoever did this. She looks a little warmer now, but still rattled. She stares out through the windshield instead of scrolling through her phone. She looks afraid.

They drive the rest of the way in silence. Bucky is busy coming up with a plan, but every time he glances over at her she looks to be not thinking at all. Her face is emotionless and detached and remains that way even as they make their way inside. There’s quite a few people around in the living room mingling on a Wednesday night but he only looks at Natasha.

She looks at the two of them with her eyebrows raised, ready to ask what’s going on. Bucky drops his hand from her shoulder and speaks to the room. “Nat let’s go.” The black widow steps forward, ready for whatever lies ahead. The rest of the room had grown quiet at their arrival but now it’s silent as they process Bucky’s words and tone of voice.

“Wait you’re leaving?” Her voice would break his heart if he hadn’t already forgotten that it existed. He can’t back down from this now. He needs to see this through, whatever it is. Would he rather stay? Yes, he doesn’t ever want to leave her alone again, but bring her along is out of the question. Thankfully step two of his plan is here.

“Steve, can you stay here and keep her company?” Steve nods as he stands but he needs more information. “There’s been a break in at her apartment,” Bucky explains tersely. “Nat and I are going to check it out and then come back.” Her wide eyes absorb the knowledge, and she sinks down into the couch beside Sam.

Sam pats her on the back and then stands as well. “I’ll come too,” he offers. Bucky nods to accept his offer. More eyes couldn’t hurt. More fists couldn’t hurt either if it comes to it. Part of him hopes it does. He’s gonna need someone to take all of this out on.

Steve sits in Sam’s place on the couch next to her and wraps a comforting arm around her shoulders. She still looks as if her mind hasn’t quite processed everything. Steve will be there for her once she does. Steve is good at that kind of thing; Bucky is definitely not.

So he goes with Natasha and Sam to check out the apartment. They’re not in uniform but not exactly in disguises either. Bucky doesn’t want to waste a second and if the break in is due to her connection to them then a wig and a few hats won’t make a difference.

Nobody minds the urgency that Bucky has as he rushes everyone back to the car. Everyone wants to help. Everyone likes her, but Bucky gets the feeling that even if they didn’t, they’d do this for him. Bucky has to go and leave her, but he trusts Steve most of all, so it’ll work out nicely if Steve stays behind with her. Besides, Steve’s easily the most recognizable of the four of them.

Natasha drives quickly and even manages to find a parking spot. They split up from here, Bucky and Sam taking the main entrance, Natasha probably about to scale the walls or whatever she does. The key she gave him works with only a little bit of jiggling and Bucky’s glad Sam is there to provide some patience. Without him Bucky would have just broken down the door. That wouldn’t have been a good look.

They take the stairs three at a time to the fourth floor. Bucky’s only been her once before that time he dropped off flowers, but he remembers it all. Nothing’s amiss until they reach her door which is left halfway open. They enter and Sam lets out a low whistle. The place is in tatters. Whoever was here was looking for something. Either that or they wanted to leave a message. A message that says you should be afraid.

Her clothes and belongings are strewn all over the floor. Dishes are broken and crunch under Bucky’s boots as he moves closer. Natasha is already inside and inspecting the window which is also left open. The wind blows her curtains around eerily and they all begin to search for anything significant at all.

Sam is looking at the torn up floorboard which has nothing under it. They’ll have to ask her later if she kept anything under there or if it was just a loose floorboard to start with. Bucky carefully studies the hole in the wall where she once had artwork hanging up. Again, Bucky’ll have to ask her if that hole had been there before, and the art was covering it up or if it’s new. He takes out his phone to take a few pictures of the damage.

They work in silence for a few minutes and then Bucky gets a few text messages from Steve. She’s shaken but doing okay. Steve wants to facetime so that she knows they’re okay. Bucky figures there’s not much to do here anyway and calls. At first it’s just Steve with the phone to close to his face but then he pulls his arm back and Bucky can see.

She and Steve are on the couch where he had left them but seeing it through his screen so far away makes him feel something. The two of them look so comfortable together, they look like they belong together. Bucky shakes away that feeling as he gets Natasha and Sam into frame. They briefly explain what they’ve found which isn’t much.

Natasha’s got some potential fingerprints on the window frame, but other than that there’s nothing at all. Sam explains that Natasha will get information from the neighbors on what they heard and saw and that he’s going to set up security systems for her. Bucky stays quiet. He’s not sure to explain what he’s doing. He’s been searching for clues or information that will make this make sense and he’s found nothing.

He backs out of the frame and leaves the phone in Sam’s sturdy hands as he explains to her how a Stark designed device will notify the team if someone does break-in again. She’s clearly not listening when she interrupts Sam, sounding desperate. “Is it still there?” She describes a quilt and Bucky quickly picks it up off the ground and hands it to Sam who shows her. She thanks him in relief and Bucky takes it back to dust off and fold up.

Bucky concentrates on gently placing the quilt in a bag to bring back to the Tower as the others ask if she has any other valuable items she wants for tonight. She doesn’t make snide remarks about her perceived wealth or the value of her objects. Instead she’s reserved and spacey. She repeats that she wants the quilt from her bed but doesn’t mention anything else.

Steve answers for her and tells Natasha to pack her a bag for the night. It’s smart and thoughtful of Steve, something Bucky should have thought of before. She’s clearly not going to be coming back here tonight and she’ll need things to make her stay as comfortable as possible.

Steve thanks them on her behalf and Sam hangs up the call, handing Bucky his phone back. Then the three of them focus on trying to clean up a bit. They’ve already taken plenty of pictures of the scene and the damages done and there’s no point in leaving a mess now. They sweep the floor and try to put her belongings back where they belong.

Natasha packs her a bag with some clothes, the phone charger and laptop that Sam hands her and a few toiletries. Bucky tries not to notice the numerous bottle of pills that Natasha also sweeps into the bag, but it’s difficult. It’s yet another conversation for another time. Unlike the hole in the wall and the torn up floorboard, this conversation will need to start with her.

Sam finishes setting up the locks and security measures with Bucky as Natasha knocks on a few neighbor’s doors to find out if they heard or saw anything. Only one neighbor answers and they didn’t notice anything, not even the Avengers’ current presence in the apartment. He and Sam place a few hidden cameras pointing at the window and door in case the thief returns. It’s almost guaranteed to show nothing, but Bucky feels better knowing that they’ll have at least that for the rest of the night.

He and Sam do a last minute check over the small apartment for anything they might have missed. Natasha is already researching all of the neighbors on her phone to see if they have criminal histories or if they’re connected to anything suspicious. She’ll continue a more in depth search the moment they return to the Tower. Bucky feels a rush of admiration towards this team. They’ve really had his back through everything, even this. 

Sam contacts the authorities on her behalf but it’s more of a formality. The police hates them, but they should be thankful the Avengers even let them know about the break in at all. Bucky’s grateful that Sam handles the interaction.

Bucky hates the police. Mostly because of their corruption and their power hungry attitudes, but also because of the way they’ve made him out as a villain. If the public wanted to view him as the bad guy to blame then it would’ve happened without the encouragement of the police.

Finally there’s nothing else to do but go back home. He still doesn’t want to, but Sam and Nat manage to convince him. Someone will need to go through the apartment with her later to determine what if anything was stolen. That will have to wait until morning though. Bucky’s not bringing her back her tonight. She’s been through enough already.

There’s not much more that they can do until they get back to the Tower and have more of the required equipment and technology. But Bucky won’t be doing that. He’s no good with examining fingerprints or canvassing neighbors or searching online for information. He should have done more earlier. There had been more to do earlier. There’s always more Bucky can do. More that he should’ve done and can’t do now. More for him to lose sleep over later.

He could’ve prevented this if he hadn’t pissed her off the week before. Maybe she would’ve invited him to go along on her run and then at least he would’ve been there for her when she saw it all. Or maybe he should’ve never met her in the first place. He should’ve beat the shit out of those guys that night and then left without saying another word to her.

He dragged her into this world that night and he’s starting to regret it. He’s always got to make things complicated. He misses when things made sense. When the bad guys were Nazis who wore uniforms and were obvious. When he could beat the shit out of these Nazis. When the good guys were a team led by Steve without complication. He’s not sure he’s a good guy anymore. Even if he is led by Steve Rogers.

In this world he doesn’t know where he belongs. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t actually. No, he doesn’t belong. Not in this world, not on this team, and definitely not with her. Doesn’t mean he’s gonna leave her though. He’s not sure if it would be better or worse if they never met but he made his choice and he’s sticking with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Childish Gambino's Bonfire.
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


	10. I'm bigger than my body, I'm colder than this home

_Wednesday, February 28, 2018._

“Maybe the person who broke in is Aaron.” Steve’s already typing something up, ready to take action even when confined to the Tower with you. You, on the other hand, just want to curl up in your bed and pray this all disappears in the morning. No action would be nice.

“He’s an ex-boyfriend.” You add, feeling sick and stupid. “I changed the locks, but he did go to high school with my landlord, so I don’t know, maybe he still has a key.” Thankfully Steve doesn’t berate you for this stupidity, instead he just continues to research.

You put your head in your hands upon seeing Aaron’s face appear on the screen. God, fucking damn it, you knew this would come back to haunt you. Why does your senselessness always come back? For once can you make a mistake without the whole world finding out about it?

Now that it’s just Steve and you, you think you need to have a conversation with the man. The Captain America stares at you when you tell him this. You wonder how this man has enemies and no girlfriend with a stare like that. “I’m just gonna go straight to the point,” you tell Steve who nods in response.

“What do you know about mental disorders?” He gives you some kind of scripted spiel as if he’s being recorded. It’s probably an informative and easily digestible statement made for the public, but you don’t really pay attention. Now that you know he has an understanding and isn’t going to send you to a psych ward or whatever they used to do, you need to get back to the point.

“So I have bipolar two,” you say and stare right at him, daring him to react. He doesn’t really. He’s a professional when dealing with breaking news, and your news isn’t very groundbreaking. At least he doesn’t say something like, ‘I know’ or ‘that makes so much sense’ or ‘I can totally see that.’

He’s not an asshole; Steve’s actually very thoughtful. “Is there anything you want to tell me about it now? Or is there anything I can do to help you now?” It’s so genuine it hurts. You’re not exactly prepared for this, You figured Captain America would react somewhat like this, but in your mind you were practicing kneeing him in the balls when he said something rude.

You shake your head no because there’s really nothing you can think of that’s concrete and achievable. You have no SMART goals for Steve to complete. Right now it just feels like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

"If you ever do want to talk, I'm here." Steve knows now and there’s nothing you can do about it, but also you don’t think there’s anything you're gonna need to do about it. Steve cares but in the best way possible, he doesn’t care.

“I think I need a drink,” you inform Steve, standing and moving towards the kitchen. There’s got to be some good stuff leftover from Natasha’s 34th birthday. “Want anything?” Steve only mumbles in response, but you don’t have super hearing, so you just pour him the same drink as yours. If you have to drink both, well it wouldn’t be a tragedy.

You should probably be more precautious since your last drinking fiasco in the club, but you’ve been a good girl lately. You had one drink at Natasha’s party and yes it had been the most expensive rum you’ve ever had, but yeah more of that rum sounds perfect.

You return to the couch and Sam’s facetiming Steve. Steve makes sure you’re both in frame and you listen to what they have to say. It’s not much, Nat’s getting information from (and about) your neighbors and Sam’s setting up security measures for the future. You’re not sure what Bucky’s doing, but you don’t care.

You don’t care about anything at all. Nothing matters anyway. It’s all just stuff. Stupid, replaceable stuff. Your heart jumps into your throat. “Is it still there?” Steve glances at you, looking concerned. Sam’s not sure what you’re talking about either.

“There should be a blanket. A, um a quilt,” you explain, heart beating fast. “It was on the floor earlier.” Sam pulls it up off the ground and into your view. You sigh in relief. “Thank you,” you tell him as Sam hands it to Bucky. Bucky takes it gently into his hands and folds it up.

“Anything else you need? Anything else valuable?” Natasha’s questions barely resonate in your brain and thankfully Steve seems to recognize it.

“Just pack her a bag, Nat,” Steve says. “You’ll stay here tonight.” Steve wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, but you can’t relax into it. The quilt your grandmother made might be safe, but your home isn’t yours anymore. You wonder if it’ll ever feel that again.

You wonder if this is a normal reaction or if you’re just being a dramatic fool again. Why do you have to be like this? Why can’t you react like a normal person? You’re barely into your second drink and you’re already falling down. And you know this time is going to be bad.

Last time you drank at Natasha’s party you got away with it. That had been sheer luck or a religious intervention. Maybe Thor had a brother who was the god of bad decisions who had taken pity on you. You would pray to that god now, except you know it’s pointless.

You’re already spiraling into a deeper depression and it’s too late to do anything about it now. You mention to Steve that you’ll need your meds, and you can only help that Steve conveys the message to others as you head to the kitchen for a refill. If you’re going to bring doom upon yourself in the morning, you might as well get your drinks in now.

That doesn’t work when Steve follows you into the kitchen. He puts the rum back on the top shelf and you’re too tired now to climb onto the counters to reach it. He gets you a glass of water instead and the two of you walk back to the couch.

“Do you, um, want to shower?” Steve asks kindly. Jesus fucking Christ. You had been on a run before all of this. You probably stink to high hell. Your sweat is all dried and now you’re probably going to break out like crazy. Today just gets better and better. “If you want to, I mean,” Steve adds, realizing what you’re now thinking about.

“Yes please,” you tell him, and he shows you to the woman’s locker room next to the massive gym. He apologizes for not inviting you to use his own shower, but you get it. That would be too weird. He even goes as far to explain that the locker room has soap and towels which the guest rooms upstairs might not have.

You ignore his words and head into the empty women’s locker room. It’s not really special, just a normal locker room, but with high quality towels and shampoo and conditioner available. You take a quick shower and dress in stolen clothes from an unlocked locker labeled Natasha Romanoff. You figure she won’t mind.

You and your dripping wet hair make their way back up the one flight of stairs and back to Steve on the couch. “Any news,” you ask and flop onto the couch. He tells you that they’re setting up security cameras and assures that they’ll be removed by the time you return, but you don’t really care.

You’re exhausted and this couch is very comfortable. You grab a throw pillow and shove it under your head, wondering if you’ll ruin it with your still wet hair. You want to fall asleep right now more than anything, but you need to ask something first. Something that’s been on your mind for a while now.

“I have a question.” Steve answers with only a barely heard mumble. He’s distracted texting someone back, probably Bucky. You wait until he looks up at you. “That night at the club? Was that your attempt at a reconnection?” Steve blushes upon seeing your air quotes at the word reconnection.

“Um no,” Steve admits. “I swear I was going to do something to get Bucky to do something, but um. Well I got him to pay the bill,” he offers weakly. You nod in response. “But Nat actually told me to stay out of it. She said it was a disaster waiting to happen.” He cringes along with you.

“I guess she wasn’t wrong,” you answer plainly. It’s not exactly a surprise. Nat had told you to stay away from Barnes in those exact words when you had first met. But it hurts all the same. She had known all of this, told everyone all of this, and she still let it all happen. Is this still what you wanted? Why did she change her mind, if she ever did at all, that is?

“I was going to set something up, I promise,” Steve continues earnestly. “I was just going to give you two a little more time first. I thought Bucky could do with some more uh time. And so uh, the uh, incident at Vanaheim was an accident.” He seems to be telling the truth, even if it seems like more than just a coincidence. “I didn’t know you’d be there.”

“So you weren’t stalking me?” You meant to sit up at that for dramatic effect, but this couch really is just that comfortable. You’re gonna be asleep soon unless something dramatic does happen.

Steve chokes on his drink. “No, God no. Or at least I wasn’t. Natasha. Well I don’t know but I swear I didn’t. No stalking. Nope.” His reaction would be funny if you didn’t feel utterly abandoned. It’s stupid to feel like this. You’ve literally known these people for a few months. Why are you acting like they’ve just betrayed you to your worst enemy?

“But I’m happy it happened,” Steve adds wholeheartedly. There’s the drama you were waiting for. You’re awake again, trying to process that. You sit up and lean against the back of the couch heavily.

“You’re happy that Bucky punched Richard in the face, and they wrestled on the ground while Sam had to drag Bucky away?” Steve’s face pales but you’re not done. You aren’t really mad at Steve; you just want him to be a little more careful with his words. He shouldn’t be happy with how things were going between you and Bucky. Things between you and Bucky made no sense.

“You’re happy that disaster did happen which is exactly what Natasha predicted?” Steve’s unsure what to say to not make things worse. Smart boy. “Why is she always right? Can she pick some lottery numbers for me?”

Steve smiles at that, but it’s a little pitiful. Either he’s pitiful or you are; you don’t think you want to know. “Nat’s just good at reading people. She knows us all too well. Too well.” He’s blushing again and you get the feeling that Nat knows something Steve’d rather not talk about. You need to know what it is. If anything it’ll distract you from this feeling building in your chest, dragging you back down.

“Who is she?” You figure it’s got to be a girl. Steve Rogers only blushes like that when a girl compliments his ass at the bar. You know. You’ve witnessed it. Steve only accompanied you and Bucky out once and after that, you and Bucky stuck to daytime events only.

Steve burns even brighter. “There’s no girl,” he tells you but even he knows it’s futile. “Okay, I met someone,” he admits. “But don’t tell anyone okay. Not even Bucky knows.”

You wouldn’t mind keeping some secrets from Bucky right now. Maybe he needed to be a part of the fighting action, but you’re still pretty pissed he left you to do recon. You wanted him and well, now that you’ve got Steve you might as well dig up some dirt.

“I won’t tell Bucky,” you swear, fully meaning it. Steve nods and finishes his drink. You’re only about 50% sure that it contains some of Thor’s leftover potions, but you figure you’ll figure that out soon enough.

“So, I’ve started dating a bit,” Steve admits shyly. “Nat was always trying to set me up and I figured maybe if I went on a couple dates I’d get her off of my back at least.”

“And?” You add, unable to help yourself. This is just starting to get interesting. Maybe if you distract yourself for what has just greatly impacted your own life, you’ll feel better.

“Well they were mostly terrible.” You haven’t heard Steve talk bad about anyone, but in all honesty he doesn’t talk much about people anyway. He’s more of ideas and concepts kind of a person, when he’s talking that is. Truth be told you’ve had very limited words with Steve, he’s usually too busy in the action to chat with you.

It was nice though, while Steve went on missions with the rest of the team, Bucky was usually left behind and bored. Perfect opportunities to make him hang out with you. But Bucky’s not the point of this conversation. No, you want to know about Captain America’s love life.

“Mostly?” Steve’s gone silent again and wow you really have to push this stupid blondie to talk about himself, don’t you? Even with all of your pushing he won’t tell you the name of the girl. Instead he tells you that it’s new and that he’s not sure it’ll be anything at all. He’s shy and excited about it and you wonder when you stopped having those feelings. Or if they’re just being suppressed and contained in a box in the deepest part of your heart.

You doze off once it’s clear that Steve won’t be telling you any real information about his mystery girl. When you wake up Bucky and Natasha and Sam have returned. Natasha and Sam only stay long enough to comment on the clothes you’re wearing which belong to the Black Widow herself. They probably have better things to do, but Bucky sits on the couch with you and Steve.

Waking up after your short nap you feel disoriented and drunk. How much did you end up having? You can’t remember. You had started with the fancy rum- one glass for you and one for Steve- and then did you drink them both? But then Steve had gotten new drinks? It’s all foggy in your mind now.

Bucky starts to talk to Steve and you but mostly Steve. You try to butt into the conversation but it’s hard when all that comes out when you open your mouth is a yawn. Bucky and Steve stare at each other for a moment and then Steve offers up a room upstairs for you to spend the night. This had already been mostly decided, but it’s nice to see Bucky agree that you should stay.

Steve wishes the two of you goodnight and leaves Bucky to direct you to where you’ll be spending the night. You try to decipher the look on Bucky’s face as Steve walks away, leaving the two of you alone, but he’s too hard to read. He’s closed off and stern. Probably because you’re an idiot who doesn’t lock up properly before going out on a run.

“Bucky,” you hear yourself say. “Steve must really, really love you.” You’re too tired or too drunk to care about what you say. It’s something a manic you would say, and that side of you will be long gone by the time morning comes. Might as well make the most of it now.

“Mhmmm,” Bucky mumbles in response, focusing more on getting you upstairs in one piece than what you’re trying to say. It’s annoying. Even if he’s preventing you from walking into walls twice now. Honestly at this point he should just pick you up and carry you. It’d probably be easier.

Either you say that out loud or Bucky figures the same because you soon get thrown over his shoulder. The movement makes your stomach lurch but only for a second. He smells like Bucky and it’s so familiar you forget what you were trying to tell Bucky. At least for a minute.

You enter the elevator and Bucky sets you back down on your feet, but his hands don’t leave your body. “After Steve made sure I was okay and got me a drink,” you mumble. You’re definitely slurring but at least now Bucky is looking at you instead of at the elevator buttons. Progress.

“A drink or five?” Bucky chimes in, interrupting you. God, he looks good in an elevator. Is that a normal thought to have? You’re not sure. Maybe he looks good everywhere. You don’t have to think about it long before deciding that yes, he does look good everywhere.

Bucky’s staring at you and you remember again what you were trying to say. “He wouldn’t stop talking about you! Bucky this Bucky that. You’d better be careful; I’ve got all sorts of material on you now.”

You’re trying to tease him. You want to see him smile tonight. You haven’t seen him smile once tonight. He leads you out of the elevator and into an area you’ve never seen before. It’s nice. Really nice.

“Yeah what? Tell me something.” He’s still not smiling, but this is an improvement. A talking Bucky is better than a silent Bucky. You pause to think. There’s got to be some good dirt you know on Bucky now. The problem is that you can’t think of it. Thinking is hard right now.

“Actually all of it was really, really good.” You pat him on the back as he picks you up again. Clearly he found carrying you easier than dragging you alongside him. “You’re a nice man, Barnes. A really nice man.”

A really nice man with really nice arms. You’re not entirely sure if you said that part out loud, but who cares? Not you. “And thank you for today. For dropping everything to come help me.” He deposits you again, this time on a bed. The same one you spent the night in when you got too drunk at Nat’s birthday.

Is this becoming a habit? You wouldn’t mind it. Not when you’ve got this view. Bucky stares at you try to come up with thoughts. You stop staring at Bucky to look around the neat room. You’d stand to give him a quick hug in thanks, but he’s too far away. You gesture for him to come closer, and he appeases you.

You pull him in for a hug, your head buried in his stomach as he still stands. His hands feel so large against your back. You feel like you can finally relax. “I don’t know what to say,” you admit, face sill smothered in his abs. You just can’t help yourself.

“Well I think you’ve said it all, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” Bucky teases. He pulls away but sits beside you on the bed. He shows you the security measures and finally introduces you to the voice in the ceilings. He tells you that he’ll be close by and that Friday will wake him if you need him for anything. You like the sound of that.

Then he pulls a bag out from nowhere. He’s either a magician or you just hadn’t noticed the bag before. Either way you’re entirely relieved to see its contents. It’s your grandmothers quilt, even if it’s a bit dirty. You hug it close to your chest and then Bucky helps you drape it over your body. 

He wants to talk about the break in and all they learned, but you don’t want to hear. You’re still tipsy and tired and you heard enough from Steve already. You tell Bucky what you told Steve, that “it might be my ex-boyfriend Monaghan. Aaron Monaghan is not a nice guy.”

You sound drunker than you feel but you hope that Bucky can tell that you’re serious. Judging by the glint in his eyes, he understands you just fine. He tucks the quilt in closer to you and turns off the light. You’re asleep before he even closes the door. 

Bucky had to tear himself away to get to the heart of the matter. She had hugged him for ages up there, all sleepy in bed. It was so sweet and Bucky either wanted it to end ASAP or to never end. He’s not sure which.

She could barely spit out consonants let alone full sentences, but he got a name: Monaghan. She didn’t even notice when he looked him up right in front of her. But Bucky figures she wouldn’t have noticed much once she had laid on the bed. He wonders if Steve knew about this Monaghan and if he had, why Steve hadn’t told him.

Probably because Bucky would’ve found his location and murdered him without further consideration. Probably because the Winter Soldier side of his is apparently not buried as deep as Tony Stark and the UN has believed.

“She’s a great girl,” Steve says once Bucky returns back downstairs. “You should thank me you know,” he adds when Bucky doesn’t respond and only grumbles. “Well fine, what do you want to talk about then?”

“Other than you getting her drunk?” There’s no humor in Bucky’s voice. “The break in,” Bucky says simply. “I think I have a name.” Bucky pulls up everything he’s dug up on the man in silence. Steve flips through the documents and stares at a handsome man with white-blond hair and bright green eyes.

Bucky tries to decipher if Steve is seeing this man for the first time or not. Steve’s training with Natasha is paying off, he’s unreadable, even to Bucky.

“Twice divorced hedge fund manager with no kids. Asshole.” Is all Bucky wants say. He ends up saying more. “He did something to her. I don’t know if it was emotional physical verbal whatever. I don’t care. I’m gonna kick the shit out of him.”

Bucky doesn’t even realize that he’s about to rip the laptop in two until Steve stops him. “Look this guy might be an asshole but I don’t think he broke in.” Bucky has to focus on his breathing in order to put the laptop back down on the table in one piece.

“Why did you see something?” Bucky asks, referencing the cameras they set up. He hasn’t been away from her apartment for an hour, has this douchebag already returned to the scene of the crime?

“No,” Steve admits, “but I was thinking it over. Why would someone break in at night to steal something when more than likely she would be at home and in bed. It doesn’t make sense. You don’t have to watch her long to realize she spends most of her day here at work. She only goes home at night and even then it’s not that often.”

Thankfully Steve doesn’t seem to be insinuating anything involving him, which is good because there is nothing going on with her involving him. “So whoever it is wanted to be seen by her. They wanted to scare her and see what would happen.” Steve’s making too much damn sense for this moment right now. “And this is where I think we already messed up. They saw exactly what they wanted.”

Bucky wants to pick the laptop back up and throw it into something expensive like the TV. But only after he rips the laptop into a million pieces. “No less than three Avengers showed up to her home in no less than thirty minutes. I think they’ve already gathered what they wanted to know; no hidden devices needed. Well, of course we’ll still monitor the apartment but I’m afraid this was only step one for them and I’m not sure where this’ll end.”

Fuck everything. Bucky’s gonna need to raid a Best Buy or maybe Tony’s workshop to get all of this anger out. He’s feeling anger like he’s never felt before. Whether it’s related to her or this has just building up over time, he’s not sure. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except how he’s going to make whoever is responsible pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got kind of carried away with the Bucky bit at the end of the chapter but oh well.
> 
> Chapter title is from Halsey's Control.


	11. A year from now we'll all be gone

_Sunday, March 4, 2018_

“Rosebud,” Bucky reads off of his phone. She waits to hear more but that’s all he’s got. Top movie quotes of all time and she’s stumped by number one, not exactly what he expected. Today is not going well and it looks like it’s gonna get worse.

She hasn’t even been living in the Tower for a week and she’s already sick of all of them. Not exactly what Bucky was expecting. Granted, she did have to move most of her stuff out of her apartment when Bucky convinced her to move in with the team. He would’ve forced her but thankfully that was unnecessary. Either she knew that, or she didn’t mind moving in because they hadn’t fought about. They fought about everything else but not that.

“Rosebud? That’s it? How am I supposed to know the movie from one word?” She’s not exactly angry or disappointed. Bucky’s not sure what she’s feeling. He wishes he could so he could understand her better.

“It’s literally the first one. Top movie quotes of all time and number one is rosebud.” Bucky wished he didn’t sound so aggravated, but he is. She said she knew movie quotes and she made him look this shit up. And now she doesn’t know shit and he did all of this for nothing. Just like everything else he’s been doing with zero results.

“You actually don’t know this one?” Sam chimes in annoyingly. He’s not pissing only her off, Bucky’s getting more aggravated too. “It’s like the best movie of all time.” She gestures helplessly, still mouthing the word rosebud. “Citizen Kane,” Sam says with a smirk after waiting for too long with no response. “Guess you don’t know your movies after all.”

“Fuck you, I know my movies. I just haven’t happened to see that one yet, it’s not a big deal.” Her fuck you has no heat behind it. Nothing like what she has said to him hundreds of times before. But maybe it’s just cause it’s Sam and not him. He can’t think of a time when she cussed Sam out.

“Well it’s only the greatest American movie ever made, but okay I see your point,” Sam teases. Bucky thinks he might curse Sam out, but it wouldn’t be his first time doing that.

“Ugh, forget this Bucky I don’t want to play this game anymore.” Her voice isn’t as playful as it usually is with Sam around, and he doesn’t like it. Steve had given him the gist of his conversation with her, but Bucky doesn’t want her to think he thinks any different of her. And so acts just the same as he has before.

“We haven’t even started though,” Bucky complains. “I pulled this list up for nothing and you’re giving up?” He puts his phone away reluctantly. He’s disappointed. He thought this could actually be fun, but that didn’t last long.

“Yep,” she says easily, “I love giving up, it’s so much easier than trying.” She slinks off of the kitchen stool and onto the floor. She’s melting like she’s made of something that melts. Maybe metal, but it’s not that hot in here. According to what she’s wearing, it must be cold. He doesn’t get cold anymore. He wouldn’t know. He doesn’t seem to anything anymore. He himself has perused the top movie quotes and he probably knew three out of a hundred. Embarrassing.

“Well what do you want to do then?” She shrugs and stands up to start opening cupboards. “What are you doing?” Bucky really needs to work on changing his tone of voice. It’s making himself feel even more frustrated. She’s about to make a mess of the kitchen and Bucky’s not in the mood to clean up after her.

“I wanna bake something.” She slumps back down on the floor. “I don’t know, maybe not. I just got this feeling like I should do it, but I don’t know if that means I should actually do it or if I just think I should do it. I don’t know.” Bucky knows that feeling.

He remembers what it’s like to not know who you are and not knowing if what you feel is real or just all in your head. Well, obviously it’s in your head but did you make it up? He hates that feeling. “Well, let’s try,” he tells her. “What do you want to bake?”

As they mix batter and reread recipes, Bucky tries not to dwell on the fact that this is going to come to an end. Not just because everything eventually comes to an end, but because they are pretty sure they know who the culprit is.

It turns out to be an upset coworker, not Eric who Bucky hasn’t been a fan of ever since he first hear of him, who thinks she’s getting special attention. Which she is. The evil Stark employee has acted horribly, but he is right. She has gotten special treatment from the Avengers. And so that’s the whole point of the lawsuit.

It should be a closed case- the man literally hired someone to break into her apartment- but the media has been alerted and now it’s as much of a publicity stunt as it is a legal battle. At least the man has already been fired for breaking into her home and will face retribution for that crime. Bucky’s would much rather just pulverize the man, send him to Timbuktu to live out the rest of his life far away from them, and call it a day.

That’s not an option though and so they’re stuck inside trying to pretend nothing is wrong. Despite the man likely going to jail, it’s opened up a whole can of worms that could end in bad things for her. Pretending nothing is wrong isn’t working but they’re all trying. Even Steve is doing his best acting job yet, but maybe it’s not acting anymore when the brownies they made actually are delicious.

“These are incredible,” Steve says after his first bite, signaling Sam to cut out his own large piece. This batch is going to be gone in minutes at this rate. They should’ve made another pan. “Didn’t know you could bake,” says Steve, or at least it what he thinks he said. It’s hard to tell with Steve’s mouth stuffed with brownie.

Bucky’s not sure if Steve’s questioning his baking skills or hers, but she answers, “yes,” with a cheerful laugh. Bucky grins in spite of himself. Yes, he can still laugh and smile when he’s feeling like shit. The laughter stops and Bucky’s heart stops beating when Tony Stark shows up out of the blue.

It is his home and his kitchen, but Bucky’s never seen him here unless it was a big gathering. It’s unnerving and uncomfortable. Is something big going on? Is there new news about the lawsuit? Stark ignores the staring and approaches the baked goods. He takes a look at the brownies and then back at the rest of the kitchen.

“I see that you’ve been busy making a mess in here.” Bucky’s not sure if he should speak to defend himself or to stop Steve from getting mad at Tony for being rude but it is his home and who knows what the proper thing is to say. And there’s really not a mess at all and they’re gonna clean it up soon and none of the thoughts exploding in Bucky’s mind matter.

“I take it all back,” Stark retracts his statement. “Make as much of a mess as you’d like.” Stark takes another piece and a napkin and turns to walk away until he spots her. “But why are you here?” He points a finger at her and she’s frozen. “Shouldn’t you be busy working for me?”

She clearly doesn’t know how to answer that. Bucky feels sick to his stomach watching her like this. It’s like he can hear her thought process: taking vacation days is okay, but she had put her team in a tough spot. She was supposed to be getting her mental health back in running order, not baking with the Avengers. At least that’s what Bucky would be thinking in this situation.

“Why are you baking in our kitchen?” Tony asks once it’s clear no one will be answering his previous questions. “Not that I'm complaining,” Tony reassures, placing another helping on top of his second brownie in the napkin. He licks a few crumbs off his fingers and continues to stare. Does Stark not know about the lawsuit yet? If not Bucky is not gonna be the one to break that news. Don’t shoot the messenger might not apply to Bucky when Stark is involved.

Steve looks just as uncertain as how to respond to Tony. Thankfully she unfreezes and finds her words. She smartly delivers one of Tony’s favorite things: compliments. “Well this kitchen is so nice,” she exclaims, and Bucky figures she’s not even trying to exaggerate. Now that he thinks about it, it really is a nice kitchen. It’s a good thing it’s finally getting some proper use. Steve had always been bugging Bucky about learning how to cook with him but take out was just so much easier and tastier.

“A mess in here doesn’t even look bad, but a mess in my kitchen is just overwhelming!” Everyone looks at the full sink. “Plus you guys have a dishwasher,” she adds, loading it up. “And a human dishwasher,” she points at Bucky who gets the hint. He begins to help her load the dishwasher and once that’s done he starts to handwash the remainder. “I would’ve just saved them for a second load,” she says drying off her hands and looking at Bucky, “but he’s doing the work himself.”

Stark stares at him and Bucky wishes she had never drawn attention to him. She seems to sense that feeling of discomfort and so she keeps talking, filling the space as she does. “And well my oven broke a while back and I was advised to just buy a new one cause the part they need is practically extinct, so I’m just dealing without.”

“But then how are you eating?” Steve’s one to talk. Bucky’s pretty sure she’s the only person who has cooked in this high class kitchen in weeks. Steve has been trying to learn, but most of his stuff is inedible anyway. Either no one’s used this kitchen in months, or they have a superb cleaning staff who replaces kitchenware liberally. That might actually make sense. The spoon Bucky had bent while trying to scoop out ice cream is nowhere to be seen.

“Take out mostly,” she smiles. “And microwave popcorn.” Steve looks like he’s about to intervene. It’s ridiculous since that’s all Steve lives off of as well. “But my stove top works,” she amends, “just not the oven part.” None of the men in front of her, including Bucky, seem impressed. “Besides its teeny tiny anyway, and this place is so much nicer for cooking.” There’s no denying that.

Stark excuses himself and the four remaining people in the kitchen begin to relax again. Sam brings the pan of brownies to the coffee table in the living room and Steve turns on the TV. They’re in the middle of watching some TV show and Bucky doesn’t mind joining them, even if he did miss the first few episodes.

Bucky daydreams as he watched both the television and the people around him watching it. His birthday is less than a week away and Bucky hopes Steve isn’t planning anything. Last year Steve had tried to do something special for his hundredth, but let’s just say it didn’t work out. He hasn’t been in the right head space for that many eyes on him not when everything he had done was so fresh. It still is fresh to some extent but it’s also somewhat fading. He imagines this is simply the weight he’ll continue to carry until his dying day.

He’ll be 101 this year and it’s just as ridiculous to him as everyone else. Of course he hasn’t properly lived all of those years but since he’s not sure how much time he has lived, it’s a good a number as any to go by. He’s probably in his late 30s or early 40s biologically, but that doesn’t mean he feels that way. Most days he feels somewhere in between. A sixty or seventy year old man with creaking joints, a reason to reminisce, and a lot of regrets. He’s trying his best not to create any more.

Everyone’s legs have fallen asleep and its time to get off the couch to do something. Steve and Sam are ready for a workout but Bucky’s not feeling it, and neither is she. She wants to know more about the Siri in the ceiling that tells them the weather outside and a hundred other things. “Her name is FRIDAY,” Steve explains while yanking on his tennis shoes. He really is serious about this run despite the drizzly and cold March day they’re having.

“Friday,” she repeats thoughtfully, and the AI responds by saying hello to her. “Why Friday. Was Thursday already taken?” Bucky groans at her lame joke. She looks disappointed in it as well.

“It’s an acronym,” Sam tells her. “Female Something Intelligent Assistant Something.” Bucky wants to point out that he missed a something in there but there’s no point. Her mind is blown even with Sam’s horrible memory of what FRIDAY stand for. The AI responds to Sam’s comment with her proper name and to be honest Bucky forgets it almost immediately as well.

“You know the USA PATRIOT Act,” she asks them, changing the conversation entirely. They all know the USA Patriot Act. After Loki showed up it was all the news could talk about. And after the Sokovia Accords it was all people would refer to. “Did you know that was an acronym too?”

FRIDAY confirms her comment, explaining that the USA PATRIOT Act is in fact an acronym. “Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism.” Bucky wasn’t aware of that fact, but he figures it’s par for the course. 

“Do you think there’s a team that comes up with those names though?” She’s got a point. Does someone really get paid to do the marketing of a governmental law? “Like seriously you have to put in some serious effort to make sure your act spells out patriot.” She’s doing a good job of keeping the conversation going even as Sam and Steve are ready to head out, but something’s different.

She’s not having fun with it like Bucky imagines she normally would be. She’s just stating this all as fact as if she’s reading straight from a set of encyclopedias. Bucky recognizes the look on her face but it’s not one of hers. It’s the face he sees in the mirror in the mornings. It doesn’t suit her.

They say goodbye to Steve and Sam, and she spends the next few hours on her laptop, searching for a new apartment. Bucky’s not ready for her to leave just yet but he figures she’ll need to eventually. Once this dreaded lawsuit is over and she’s safe again that is.

Their day gets even worse when a representative from legal shows up in the afternoon. Maggie Ulrich Esq. gets straight to the point, which is a good thing because Bucky’s pretty sure she charges by the minute. “They’re suing on the basis that you have a sexual relationship with an Avenger and that’s why you receive preferential treatment.”

“They can’t do that can they?” Bucky notices that she’s not denying the claim. Who did she sleep with? Definitely not Tony. Maybe Sam? Or could it be Steve all along? Bucky’s starting to feel queasy. Why did he have to eat those extra eggs this morning?

“Yes I’m afraid they can,” Pepper’s personal lawyer Maggie Ulrich says. “It’s a specific type of discrimination. Similar to favoritism or nepotism. They are claiming that due to your close relationship with the Avengers they feel uncomfortable completing their work.”

“Uh what?” She says in response. Bucky doesn’t have a law degree either, and this seems like a good question to ask.

“It’s called a hostile work environment and they’re claiming that’s what’s going on.” Maggie seems friendly enough, probably used to dealing with plenty of people who simply do not understand what she is saying. “They’re claiming that the environment is prohibiting them from achieving their goals and essentially interfering with their work performance.”

“This is bullshit,” she replies. Once again, Bucky has to agree with her evaluation. “His work performance is just fine. He literally just got a promotion! What more does he want?” Bucky figures he wants to work in a place where his coworker isn’t buddies with the boss, but who knows. Maybe this guy’s just jealous and wants to sleep with her as well. Bucky can relate.

“This is just speculation,” Maggie tells them. “But I believe it’s all to cause a scene. To get on the news. To embarrass you. To embarrass the Avengers. To make us look like fools, preferably on live TV to discredit the institution.” Maggie is speaking like she doesn’t have feelings, but her words are pretty emotional. Causing a scene, embarrassment, fools. This is all going to make her feel terrible about something she really had no control over.

She pales at the sound of that. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to do any of that.” She’s honest and heartfelt but Bucky’s pretty sure Maggie Ulrich doesn’t give a damn. It’s her job to represent whoever Pepper pays her to represent and she’ll do her job no matter what. It almost feels worse this way. “Discredit the institution or make us look like fools. So what do I do now?”

“You leave me to do my work and I will let you know if I have any tasks for you to complete.” The women shake hands and exchange Maggie’s business card. Bucky gives Maggie a polite nod and then turns his attention back to her.

“This is all gonna be okay, okay?” He’s trying to build confidence in her, but it’s not going terribly well. He needs to believe in them getting out of this potentially nasty lawsuit first and that might take some time. “So is it Sam? Or Steve?” He can’t help but ask. If he’s gonna help her out with this he feels like he deserves to know which of his friends she’s been fucking.

“Jesus Bucky. It’s none of them, okay!” Bucky doubts her and she can tell. He lets her storm away without saying another word. Yes, he’s being an asshole but so is she for keeping this from him. There’s got to be photos or some kind of proof out there if this lawsuit is actually happening. Just who those photos are with is the question. Bucky’s not sure if he wants to know or if he never wants to know. He’s just got a lot of thoughts about it.

A few hours later and Maggie has returned. Not with a task, but with more news for her. She’s not around though, having disappeared after Bucky purposefully offended her, and so Maggie warns Bucky instead.

Maggie speaks straightforwardly and robotically. Bucky wonders if she might actually be AI as well. “They want her to show up at the hearing so they can question her. They have pictures of her with a variety of older men and with the Avengers. It’s not going to look good.” Great, it’s exactly what Bucky was thinking of. It’s his worst nightmare coming true in front of him. Okay, maybe not. It’s not exactly what terrors wake him from his sleep in a sweat, but it’s far from pleasant.

Maggie the lawyer is gonna do her best to keep her out of the spotlight, but this might be beyond her reach. The good news is that the other lawyer, name unmentioned, stepped down from the case. He was supposed to be a big deal and Bucky’s relieved. Maybe if he’s backing out of the case, then it’s not as likely to succeed. Maybe they will win this and come out on top.

Lawyer Maggie loses some of her mechanicalness to show some humanity. “Plus the precedence has kind of already been set.” It’s clear on Bucky’s face that he does not know what she refers to. “Tony and Pepper,” she explains easily. Should she even be saying these things if she works for Pepper? Is this okay?

“He gave his company away to his girlfriend. Was she capable?” Bucky nods dumbly and she continues. “Yes. Was she a legitimate choice?” He nods again. “Yes. Did it cause some waves in the media?” She doesn’t pause for him to nod for a third time. “Absolutely.” Maggie excuses herself and Bucky tries to process her words.

Did this mean that she was sleeping with Tony? That she was going to take over Pepper’s spot as CEO? No, that was ridiculous. After all, Pepper had mentioned previously that she might lose her job over this. But was that Pepper trying to threaten her? Did something happen at Natasha’s birthday party? Oh, but then there was Thor there too that night. Did something happen between her and Thor? Was she going to quit her job here to move to Asgard?

Bucky stops thinking about all of these scenarios when Steve and Sam return sweaty and tired. They need to shower, but first question Bucky on where she has gone. Bucky doesn’t give them the full story or even mentions Maggie Ulrich, Esq. There’s no need for them to know. Bucky tells them she needed some space, and they accept that answer and leave Bucky alone again.

Bucky doesn’t really care who she slept with on the team. He truly doesn’t mind, but he does desperately want to know. He wants to know what other secrets she’s been sharing with someone other than him. He wants to know why she’s been so adamant about hiding this from him.

She had been open about her sex life in the past, something Bucky found shocking and indecent at first, but now he understood that it just wasn’t a big deal to her. He’s been trying to make it less of a big deal to him as well and it’s been working. He slept around plenty in the past as well and if he was never shamed for it then neither should she. But he still is curious as to who it is.

So he pulls out his phone and opens messages. There’s only one person who can tell him all of this and if she wants to ignore him that’s up to her and it’s fine by him. He phrases it a few different ways before deciding on, _I won’t judge you even if it’s Clint who is married with kids._ He knows she wouldn’t do that, plus he’s pretty sure she hasn’t even met Clint yet. _Please just come talk to me so I can help you with this. I’m sorry about earlier. Really sorry. Maggie’s got an update for you. I’m in the living room._

And if Bucky hits send, well no one else has to know. Besides her, that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I have done more research before bullshitting my way through the lawyery sections of this chapter? Yes.  
> Will I explain it away with the idea that it doesn’t matter because neither Reader nor Bucky understand it either? Yes.
> 
> I apologize to my reader’s who understand a very basic understanding of law and call bullshit on all of this. I am sorry. I hope it didn’t negatively impact the story too much for you. Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> Chapter title is from The Head and the Heart's Rivers and Roads.


	12. But we still got love to give

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a little more about the bipolar aspect of the Reader, so please don't read if you think it'll be upsetting in any way. It's not meant to be triggering in any way but I also want to add that again this is all fiction and not meant to describe a universal experience! Hope you enjoy!

_Tuesday, March 6, 2018_

Ever since you realized that it was your jealous coworker who broke into your home, you’ve been at a loss. At a loss for words, a loss for understanding and a loss of a home. Living in the Avenger’s Tower actually is really nice. It would be even nicer to have an extremely short commute, but you haven’t been able to go back to work.

Your lawyer Maggie had told you to take the rest of your saved up vacation days until this was all figured out. It was a reasonable enough request, but it didn’t make you feel any better. Not when the unspoken message was that you had better use up your vacation days now because you won't be able to once you lose your job. So you had taken the rest of the week off of work and will probably need to do the same for the following week. That wasn’t enough though.

Thanks to the press catching wind of the situation you’ve been told to stay in the Tower. Not just in the Tower but in the private areas of the Tower. Apparently that doesn’t even include the training areas of the new Avenger recruits. It means you’ve been stuck around the same people for nearly a week now.

It would be fun except you’ve been feeling worse than normal lately. The break in had affected your mental health negatively and not even Bucky is making you feel better. The fact that he’s convinced you might die upon seeing a human face that isn’t an Avenger has you feeling on edge. He’s always hovering about or asking someone to hang out with you so that he can go off to do his own thing. You don’t need a babysitter and you’ve told him as much, but it’s not helping. The two of you are in a weird sort of non-fight and you’re not sure how to end it.

You had gone and talked to him even after he assumed you had slept with Tony. Gross. He had given you an update from Maggie which was really more of a warning. They had photographic evidence and a possibility of brining you to the stand. You had figured as much, but it still was scary to hear. You had hoped that the big bucks could buy you a lawyer who could work some real magic. You feel like you’re going to need it.

Your coworker is right that you have been getting special attention and maybe it has been affecting your performance reviews, but it’s not like you asked for this. You met Bucky Barnes out of the blue, not even at work, so why was this such a big deal? The photographic evidence which Bucky has been on your back about, isn’t even what you know he thinks it is.

He’s convinced that you’re sleeping with Sam or Steve or possibly both of them. He’s convinced that these photos are of you and them making out half naked in seedy hotels. You’ve seen the pictures and they’re innocent until you compare them with other photos of you.

The photos they’ve got of you are with dozens of men, typically older than you, and yes some of them are inside seedy hotels. But this isn’t what Bucky cares about even if the press does. Bucky wants to see the photos they have of you with an Avenger. You’re nto usre why you haven’t just gotten Maggie to show them to him already. They’re embarrassing for sure, but they aren’t anything bad.

They’re all of you with him. Photos of you dancing with him at the nightclub, his hands on your waist, your head on his chest. Photos of you letting Bucky finish your ice cream in the park, of him putting his hat on your head. There’s nothing bad about them except for the apparent look on your face. It’s like you’re in a romcom and he’s the love of your life that you will end up married to in the next two and half hour screening.

So yeah, you’re too embarrassed to show Bucky who you honestly are confused about. How has he not figured this out? Is he really that oblivious? Or is he really that convinced that you and Sam are hooking up? Did that one time in the kitchen when Sam caught you as you fell off your stool laughing, really imprint itself in Bucky’s brain. Did Bucky think that just one action like that had made you and Sam fall in love?

It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. You can’t fall in love with someone in an instant, can you? Your feelings are all bottled up and confusing your insides. It’s leaving you an emotional mess and combined with your recent antics, it’s not a good look on you.

You were incredibly hungover and debilitatingly depressed after the night of the break-in. You might not have broken down in front of Steve that night, but the following morning you basically had a meltdown. The good thing is that Wanda didn’t judge you for a second and instead fetched you pain killers and water. She even held your hand as you cried and your hair as you vomited.

You really owe her for all of that. If only she spent more time at the Tower than the Compound you could pay her back for her help. She and Vision did prefer the Compound though and you think you understand. You’ve never been there but from the way Wanda talks about it, it sounds peaceful and like a home. Wanda seems happy there and you’re happy for her.

The two of you had bonded for sure and now you feel lonely that she’s gone. Things between you and Bucky are weird and Natasha’s rarely around anymore. She’s got bigger more important things to deal with and while you certainly don’t want to prevent her from saving the world, you wish she’d be around more.

Things between you and Steve have been weird too. He offered to sit down and talk with you anytime about anything and had obviously been insinuating that the conversation would be about your mental health. It’s not that you actually want to do any of that with him, but he’s barely been around as well. Probably on serious lifesaving missions with Natasha.

Sam is still around plenty and Bucky is always hovering in the shadows, keeping his distance from you. It’s fine though. Some distance is a good thing especially when you still aren’t going home to your apartment. The person who broke in is facing consequences, but during Natasha’s background check on your neighbors she found a drug ring and that your landlord was not charging fair rent. Even once this lawsuit is over you’ll need to find a new place to stay.

You cut your lease short and in the meantime have been stuck in the Tower. You’re stuck in the Tower anyway due to all the paparazzi trying to get pictures of you flirting with Avengers and it’s as least nice to not have to owe anyone rent. Stark Industries is probably going to end up in bigger trouble because of this, but it’s for your lawyer to sort out.

It’s already been made pretty clear that you won’t be keeping your job. You’ll miss Craig, but other than that you don’t mind a career change. Maybe you’ll even go back to school and get another degree. Who knows! The whole world is waiting for you. After this lawsuit that is.

You’ve been dozing on the couch on and off for a better part of the afternoon; the walls of your room feeling like they were closing in on you. You can’t feel claustrophobic in this living room with its large open atmosphere and its couch which is just as comfy as your mattress upstairs.

You’ve been thinking about how much better your head feels compared to last week when you woke up and had to remember everything. You had to remember your run, arriving at your torn apart apartment, Bucky leaving you with Steve and then getting drunk with Steve and telling him too much and not enough all at the same time.

You really never drink alcohol. Unless the hypomania takes over and you’re out at a party. Then yeah, you tend to drink more than you should. However, when you’re at least a little more stable or even when you’re depressed, you never drink because it fucks you up so badly. Even after the hangover ends you usually end up in a different mindset, induced by your imbibing.

Even at Natasha’s birthday party you didn’t have much to drink, at least to start with. You had intended to stay sober and so you had stuck with soda until Tony Stark poured you a glass from his secret stash. Maybe that’s why Bucky was so hung up on the idea of you and Iron Man. Tony had been giving off weird vibes that night, but you figured all the long glances at Bucky made it pretty obvious who you were interested in. You guess not.

So for most of that party you weren’t drunk, you were just like that. You’re fucking like that when your hypomania kicks in. Dancing with strangers and flirting with everyone you lay eyes on. Again, you were mostly laying eyes on the one and only James Buchannan Barnes, but he had not picked up on any of the hints you dropped. Even literally dropping your clutch in order to a bend and snap didn’t catch his attention.

By the time karaoke rolled around though, yeah you were drunk. Not drunk enough to forget it thankfully. You don’t ever want to forget the look on Bucky’s face when you picked him to sing with you. Shock had been the biggest emotion but also pleasure and embarrassment and relief were hiding in there. He liked you. He definitely liked you so why was he being this way?

Even as Sam and Bucky join you on the couch to hang out, things are just off. Not just with you, but between you and Bucky. Things have changed and you don’t like it very much. It was so much easier before when all the questions for you were about how you and Bucky met or what snacks do you want from the kitchen. Now all they want to know is the boring serious stuff.

Sam looks you over and yes you still are in your pajamas. It doesn’t matter, you don’t have any responsibilities. Sam doesn’t seem to understand that though when he asks, “Why aren’t you at work? Don’t you have stuff to do?” You normally have lots to do at work, bringing your laptop with you wherever you go, responding to emails as you watch TV with them. Not today.

“Nope,” you tell him. You should probably tell Sam about the lawsuit if he hasn’t already heard about it from Bucky. You don’t want to talk about that though, so you don’t. “They’re fine, they get it. They don’t care as long as all the work gets done and it always does.” You pause before remembering that you probably won’t have a job here soon anyway. “Besides, Maggie told me to take all my vacation. I’ll probably never step into that office again.”

You wonder if they’re pitying you. You wonder why you’re pitying yourself. You wonder if Sam and Bucky are having a wordless conversation with lots of angry gesturing. They’re quiet but you know they’re still there. You go onto explain. “But this won’t last long. If I still had work then tomorrow I’d be back in and back to normal.” Is this normal? Is this even true? Good thing you’ll never have to find out now.

You keep talking because what else is there to do. “Look this is how it works. I get a shit ton of work done when I’m manic okay.” This is the first time you’ve said words like that in front of anyone other than Steve. It feels a bit like standing naked in front of a crowd. Despite this uncomfortableness you’re rambling on and on. “I stay up half the night and everything is like magic.”

You can still feel the stares of Sam and Bucky, but you keep your eyes closed tight. “Then I fall back down here and spend a day wondering why the fuck I’m not happy anymore. Plus I feel like shit for all the shit I did without thinking. All the guys, all the drinks, whatever. But then tomorrow, once I can push past all that crap then I start to review all the work I tried to do.”

You think back to all the times this cycle has repeated and all the different jobs you’ve had because of it. “Sometimes the stuff I come up with is brilliant and I’m not even sure it’s mine, but it’s got my name on it. Other times I VPN in and it’s like I couldn’t even spell my own name right. So yeah, I don’t care that I’m gonna have to look for something new.”

They both start to speak, but they’re talking at the same time and neither is backing down. Bucky’s telling you that you don’t need to worry about a new job and Sam is asking questions about what the hell is going on. Their voices get louder until you can’t drown them out and you stand. “I’m going to take a nap,” you tell them and head back up to your room. Despite laying on the couch for a few hours you’re exhausted, and a nap is just what you need.

_Wednesday, March 7, 2018_

“Whatcha doing?” Sam asks. You say nothing in return. A day later and you’re caught in the same position. You’re lounging on the couch with the coziest blanket you can find, and Sam and Bucky have returned from whatever meeting or training session they were at. You can feel Sam staring at you and you can hear him sending Bucky away.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Great here’s some annoying therapy shit. Not what you need right now and definitely not from Sam Wilson. He just has to do whatever Steve does, doesn’t he? And where is Steve anyway? You haven’t seen him since the break-in. Does he even know that you and Stark Industries are being sued? Does he even care?

“Jesus Sam if I wanted to talk to a therapist then I wouldn’t be here would I?” You pull the blanket up over your face. It gets stuffy quickly, but that way Sam can’t judge your facial expressions. He’s not a licensed therapist but he is good at reading people during these kinds of things. You need to stay guarded if you want to keep your secrets away from Sam.

“Well then why are you here?” He sits down next to you, and you are jostled as he scoots even closer. You refuse to move and keep the blanket over you, only wiggling it a little bit to get some more fresh air inside.

“Easy. You’ve got comfy couches.” The couches here are extraordinarily comfy but so is the bed in your room. However, you figure that Sam’s not talking about your location in the Tower, he’s probably not talking about physical location at all.

Sam tries again. “We can either talk about you and Barnes or we can talk about why you’ve been laying on this couch all damn day when you can be doing anything else. I know you can’t go to work, but there’s got to be something else you can do.”

You sigh and Sam needs more of an answer than that even if it’s all that you want to give to him. “I spend most of my time in this state, you admit to him. “It’s safer this way. I know when I’m depressed because getting out of bed is a fucking battle. I know what I’m going through and I know what to do about it.” You know Sam knows that you are diagnosed with bipolar disorder. If Steve didn’t tell him earlier or Natasha even before that, then your outburst yesterday about hypomania gave it away.

You figure you might as well just explain this to him and get it over with. “The other side is trickier because I don’t really think. I’m just happy and what’s wrong with being happy when you just got done being sad? I’m the opposite of introspective. I usually don’t even realize I’m manic until it’s done and over with and I’m looking back on my life and realizing that yeah normal people don’t act like that.”

Sam remains quiet and it’s nice. You moved the blanket aside to speak but he’s not looking at you because you clearly don’t want to be looked at. He’s just listening patient as can be and it’s really nice. Maybe you should start therapy again. “So yeah me and my doctors both like depressed me more. Medicated me is obviously better but I hate fucking going in and they say well let’s try this and this and this and none of it fucking works and I’m depressed some more. They prefer depressed over the other side though.”

You’re starting to get emotional, but all Sam does is hand you a tissue. “But the boys, the boys want the other side. They want the fun and the crazy and the fuckable. I’m not that fuckable when I’m like this unless they’re into other shit which is a bigger problem. Not just for me but for women all over the world.” You pause to take a look at Sam’s distraught face. “But hey that’s just my take on it old pal.”

You blow your nose and pull the blanket back over your head and Sam goes into therapy mode. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with all of this and I’m sorry that you feel like you had to deal with alone. But I’m here now and I don’t mind any side of you, and I imagine Bucky would say the same.”

You try not to let those words affect you. They’re just words they don’t necessarily mean anything. They aren’t necessarily true. This team is made up of spies and spies can lie as easily as they breathe. “I don’t want to talk about fucking Bucky.”

“I didn’t say anything about fucking him, did I?” Sam teases lightly but you don’t react. “Okay I’m sorry,” he says and restarts. “We were talking about you and I just want to make it clear that you aren’t alone in this. We can find you new doctors if you want or new meds, but what I want you to know first and foremost is that you are lovable and you are loved.”

You struggle to swallow the spit in your mouth. You’re grateful for the blanket that’s still covering your head even if it does make it hard to breathe. You force yourself to continue to breathe. You’ve barely known these people for a few months. What do they know about love? And yet you get the feeling that even if it might not actually be love, this group of people believes that it is. You’re somehow part of their family now.

“We love you here and we want what’s best for you in any and all states of mind. I’m here for you.” Sam takes your hand in his and doesn’t mention the fact that it’s cold and clammy. You make a tent of the blanket so that fresh air enters but your face remains hidden. You continue to breathe.

The two of you sit there until your stomach grumbles and then Sam goes to get you something to eat. It’s not good food, just some of Steve’s weird leftovers, but it’s something. It fills you up and now with a little more strength in you, you stand to leave. You’re feeling much better than you did earlier today already.

“So you and Barnes then?” Sam asks more playfully than before. He knows you pretty well by now and he can see by the way your posture is straight and your hair is being adjusted that you’re in a more clear mindset. Sam knows you well enough that it’s okay to tease you again.

“No no no,” you tell Sam. You’re not entirely up for this conversation, but you know that Sam knows that too. “I picked talking about my mental health. That was the option I chose.” The more you smile the better you feel about all that you had said earlier. And all that you had heard.

“I never said there were options,” Sam points out. “But I’ll be nice and let it go.” Sam gets up to leave but not before adding. “Besides you talking about yourself rather than him is quite telling I think.”

You groan and throw a pillow at Sam who retreats. You sit back down on the couch, not sure what to do now. You know what to do, what you should do; you just don’t want to. You stand and go to talk to Bucky.

You take the elevator upstairs and with the help of FRIDAY locate Bucky’s room. You’ve never been her before and maybe it’s just your mind playing tricks on you, but even as you approach you swear you can smell his shampoo. You knock on the door three times and he shouts for you to come in.

He’s sitting at his desk, closing out the tabs on his laptop. “Hi, can we talk?” He doesn’t look surprised to see you, but he doesn’t look terribly welcoming either. He nods his head, and you sit awkwardly on his bed. It’s made neatly with the pillows stacked at the top and you take a quickly glance around the rest of the room.

It’s large but cozy, comfortable but not really him. There’s a picture on his desk of what looks to be of him and Steve as kids, and another on his nightstand of what you guess to be his family, but other than that the room is pretty bland. It’s simply decorating is soothing grays and cooling blues, but it’s clearly not Bucky’s home. He doesn’t look comfortable here, although maybe that’s due to your presence.

“So I want to talk about-” He cuts you off almost immediately and it should annoy you more than it does, but really you’re just happy to hear him speak. He’s been so quiet lately, putting more and more space between the two of you that you had worried he might never speak directly to you again.

“The lawsuit,” Bucky says. “Let’s talk about the lawsuit.” That’s not where you were going with this, but you nod to appease him. Bucky opens a new window on his laptop and types a name. You move off the edge of the bed and stand next to him to see. “All I know is that he’s blind.”

“What?!?” Of all the things Bucky was going to say about the man whose photo you are looking at, that was not what you were expecting.

“The lawyer’s blind,” Bucky repeats again. “Can’t he just get to the point already? This is getting a bit weird. You step back from Bucky and his computer and lean against the wall. He doesn’t appear to like that, so you move back to your spot on his bed.

“Um ableist much?” Sure, Bucky grew up during the Great Depression, but he has been pretty open towards progression in the time that you have known him. Maybe he really isn’t as understanding as you had made him out to be. Of all things though you would have figured that the man who was best friends with sickly Steve Rogers would be more empathetic to the blind.

“No, it’s not like that,” Bucky explains sounding exasperated. He’s always sounding like that around you. “I am in no way judging this man’s ability to sue the fuck out of us on his ability to see.” Us? Did Bucky just include himself in this lawsuit? Maybe Maggie had shown him the images and now Bucky did know how he was involved?

No, that’s not right. He wouldn’t be talking about the opponent’s lawyer if he knew about that already. “Then why the fuck did you bring it up?” Even if he doesn’t have a clue of his involvement, you’re still not sure why Bucky wants to talk about this of all things.

“It’s literally all that I know about the guy okay!” That’s definitely not true considering Bucky was just on this man’s website, but you’re not about to argue about that with Bucky now. You figure that if he’s hung up on the blindness it must mean that this lawyer is pretty damn good. Meaning you’re screwed.

“Okay can we talk about something else?” You definitely got sidetracked for a minute there and that was not what you came here for. “Let me tell you about something else.” You pause and try to gauge Bucky’s state of mind.

“It’s kind of tied to the lawsuit,” you admit, and he stares even more. “You know the pictures they have of me?” You’re starting to feel ill, but you keep pushing forward. Bucky doesn’t acknowledge your statement with words of his own, his eyebrows furrowing are the only way you know that he even heard you.

“I want to explain it, but maybe I should just show you?” You don’t know why you said that. You were definitely planning on talking briefly and then telling him to contact Maggie about the images. You do have them on your phone, but you weren’t planning on begin in the same room as him when he saw them

He gets out of his office chair and approaches you slowly. He sits on the bed besides you, and you have no choice but to pull out your phone to show him. You try to tell yourself that it’s no big deal. That you’ll probably end up explaining this to the court even if the blind lawyer stepped down from the case. Whoever takes over will likely be just as good.

He watches silently as you scroll through images. They’re mostly from a younger you dressed skimpily and with a drink in your hand. Thankfully the explicit ones are blurred out, but it’s still embarrassing for Bucky to see you on your knees in a motel. Thankfully he doesn’t react until he sees one of you and Richard dancing in a club.

You lock your phone on instinct as you see his fists clench. There’s a few more of you and Richard and if this is his reaction to you and Dick dancing then you do not to be here when the following pictures are shown. You give Bucky a second to calm down and then you unlock your phone, keeping it close to your chest so he can’t see the screen yet. “So, um these are, um.” You don’t know why you can’t speak. “These are the ones of me with the, with the Avenger.”

Bucky’s gone all tense again, but you can’t wait any longer. You hand the unlocked phone to Bucky and get off the bed. You need to get up and run out of here and never look at Bucky again. The room is quiet save for your cracking ankles as you pace around his bedroom.

You take a peek at his reaction and he’s not angry or surprised, he just looks confused. “This is it?” He asks you and hands you the phone back. “That was it?” You nod, unable to speak. Of course that’s it. Does he really still think you slept with Sam? “But this is, this is just us?”

He stares at the wall looking as confused as ever. “There’s nothing here,” he announces, standing up. He looks angry now, maybe even embarrassed. You’re not sure if he’s embarrassed for thinking that there was something between you and one of his friends or if he’s embarrassed by the pictures itself.

“There’s nothing here,” he repeats but this time he’s gesturing between the two of you. Your face burns in response. Of course there was nothing between the two of you. Someone just wanted to take pictures of an Avengers hanging out with a friend. You knew that. Of course you knew that.

“You need to go,” Bucky finally tells you after doing a few rounds of pacing himself. He looks at you still unmoving, trying to process his words. You meant to say that there’s more. You wanted to say more, but this is not what you thought would happen. Showing him the pictures was a very, very bad idea. This is all going wrong.

“Go!” He bellows once more, and you turn and flee. You figured he’d have a strong reaction, but this wasn’t the one you were expected. You thought he’d be relieved and thankful. You thought he’d open his arms to you and apologize for thinking you were hiding something from him. But no, he’s horrified at the thought of being with you, the thought of others thinking he was with you.

It’s much worse than you imagined.

Bucky heads downstairs that evening, in hopes that he’ll find her on the couch. Thankfully she’s there and no one else is. He mutters a quick apology, but she has already forgiven him and doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Bucky is relieved. Reliving the embarrassing past is the worst.

They settle in to watch an animated movie about bugs. Not even halfway through and she’s asleep. Her head in his lap, his right hand stroking her hair, his left hand resting on her hip. It should feel weird being this close to her but it’s not.

Another ten minutes and she’s jerking awake gasping for breath. Her head nearly collides with his as she attempts to stand. But her feet are tangled in blanket and her legs wobbly. He steadies her before she can fall. A full second later it’s as if her eyes are working again able to see and recognize him. She looks as if she is about to turn away but thinks better of it and instead buries her face in his chest.

He can feel her body heaving for air as she squeezes the material of his sweatshirt. Unsure of what to say he stays there, steady as a rock. Eventually she pulls back and sits on the couch looking even more tired than before her ten minute siesta. He remains quiet as she gets resettled back into his body, still sitting up.

The bugs continue their story on the TV. She watches them but he gets the feeling that her eyes aren’t really seeing anything again. He sits next to her. Still unsure of what to say. Her head droops down to his shoulder. His arm wraps around her body. They sit and watch the bugs. They sit and watch the cats. They sit and watch the elephant. They sit until Wanda and Vision come home. Then they all sit some more.

If only he knew the right words to say to make his outburst better. If only he could explain how seeing those pictures made him feel. Was he really that happy with her around? Was that really real? Could the two of them really have something together or has he already messed it up again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Khalid's Young Dumb & Broke.


	13. I'm smiling, she's living, she's golden

_Saturday, March 17, 2018._

The lawsuit is all over and in the past. Maggie Ulrich, Esq. worked her magic and Bucky sent her a large fruit basket in thanks. He’s not sure what he would’ve done if they lost. The images were displayed briefly, but thankfully the case was closed to the public and no one would ever need to know the way he looked at her when she got a little bit of ice cream on her nose.

They won but it doesn’t really feel like it. She’s moved into the Tower fully now, but he feels more distant from her now than when she lived a few blocks away. She doesn’t work at Stark Industries anymore but it’s a small price to pay. She made plenty of money from the settlement: the rest of her year’s salary and then some, but she’s still residing in the Tower.

It’s not permanent; she’s apartment hunting, but all of her stuff has been moved in thanks to Bucky and the guest room in the Tower looks like a proper bedroom. Like someone actually lives there. It’s so unusual for Bucky to see what a room in the Tower can look like home. It makes him want to redecorate his own room to make it a little more homelike.

The thirty minutes she had spent in there with him had made him come to a similar realization. The room didn’t even look like his own. He hadn’t done much and as her eyes had searched for any kind of personalization, she only found the photographs.

The first was of him and Steve as kids. Something he doesn’t even remember being taken but had been a present from Steve on his birthday last year. The second is a picture he very much so remembers being taken. A proper family photograph was a big deal and his Ma had wanted it to be perfect. He remembers the way his sisters had whined as their Ma got their hair just right. Bucky remembers the way they had all posed together and hoped it turned out alright.

It had been a prized possession of the family and the girls’ hair had all turned out just right. Now it’s the only picture he’s got of them where he’s present. He’s found a few more over the years, but Becca and Catherine didn’t have kids and Eleanor never married. He wishes he still had family alive but even if he did have nieces and nephews they’d appear much older than him.

Nope, all he’s got is Steve. Well Steve and her now. Steve’s been away on a long mission with Natasha and when they returned boy did Bucky have news to share. They’d missed out on nearly the entire lawsuit, and yes they were probably dealing with more important secretive issues, but the lawsuit was pretty damn big to her, Bucky, and the city of New York. It’s been two weeks since the initial story broke and they’re still mentioning it on TV.

She and Bucky hanging out with Steve, catching him up on what he’s missed. It’s nice, really nice. They’re back to joking and teasing and she’s even gone back to poking him in the face occasionally. He’s not sure if he appreciates that so much, but he doesn’t mind her touch.

“So when you have a mark,” she starts off sounding too sweet for her own good. “Is he ever actually named Mark?” Bucky groans and Steve grins, encouraging her even more. “But for real. Like was the first ever mark named Mark and that’s why they’re called that now?”

“Ugh it’s just a target okay. Just a Target!” She opens her mouth, and his mind goes into overdrive as he keeps talking. “And no not like the store! Jesus Christ!” Steve watches them interact with great amusement and Bucky feels like he knows what Steve is thinking. Steve’s like the third wheel now. And when exactly did that happen?

She and Steve laugh at Bucky’s displeasure, not that he really feels all that displeased. It’s just so much more fun for all of them for him to act that way, himself included. She excuses herself and tells them that she’ll see them later tonight.

It’s St. Patrick’s Day and she’s got to get all dolled up for the party tonight. It’s partially to celebrate the Irish blood in Steve’s veins, leprechauns, beer, and of course her victory in the courtroom. It’s sure to be a good night.

Steve tells her goodbye and is still laughing at her antics. He shakes his head and turns the volume of the TV up before changing his mind and turning it off altogether. This can’t be good. He hasn’t had a proper conversation with Steve in weeks but he’s not ready for one now. “You’re so lucky to have her, Buck.”

“I don’t have her,” Bucky says, unsure of which word he should be emphasizing. Steve ignores him and turns to look at him properly. Bucky wishes he had just left the TV on for some background noise.

“Look okay,” Steve continues, sounding more serious. “I’ve been trying to find something, someone to start something with and, and it’s hard okay?” Steve looks at him and Bucky can feel how much this means to Steve. “Nothing here, no one here is working out for me. You’re really lucky that you’ve got your person right here in front of you. Not everyone is that lucky. I’m not.”

Bucky wants to apologize to Steve. He wants to tell them that he belonged with Peggy, but that doesn’t mean he should give up on the future. He wants to say all of that because he means it, but he knows it won’t matter. There’s nothing he can say to Steve about this until he takes his own damn advice.

Bucky didn’t have a steady girl back in the day, but that doesn’t mean he can sign away the future either. He does have someone right in front of him. Someone he really, really cares about. Maybe even loves.

And so right then and there he decides he’s got to step it up. Too bad he can only fuck it up some more.

The party is overloaded with people dressed in various shades of green. Everyone is there and Bucky means everyone. He’s shaken hands with more people than he’d ever like to touch and Maggie Ulrich is there looking far more laid back than before. Bucky thanks her not only for her help in the courtroom, but for pointing someone out to him.

He’s been searching for her since he arrived but there’s just been too many people. With Maggie’s help he spots her in a slinky emerald dress looking glorious as ever. Who she’s with further proves Bucky’s point that literally everyone is at this event.

Bucky moves close enough to hear her speak. “Look I know you’re not an intern,” she’s giving it to Peter Parker straight and the kid looks terrified. The more Bucky stares at the two of them the more he realizes how much better they could potentially be for each other. Now that she’s weaseled the truth out of him (no, he’s not an intern), they’re already laughing and joking with each other.

Parker is in college at MIT (all he hears from Stark these days) and she’s in her early twenties (according to Nat). It’s still an age gap but compared to the one between himself and her, well at least it doesn’t span decades. Even doctors’ best guess at his physical age would put him years older than her. They’re both just kids really. Kids that could have a long, long life full of happiness.

She’s been through a lot, but Bucky still wants to protect her from the rest of the world. But maybe Peter Parker could do that on his own in a few more years. Or maybe Dr. Strange. She’d taken a liking to him as well, chatting about music for longer than Bucky felt necessary. Their competitiveness could be an issue though, so maybe it wouldn’t be a good fit.

And then obviously there was Steve, the person she’d probably be happiest with. Everyone would work nicely with Steve, because well Steve was Steve. They probably should’ve been together since that very first night. He should’ve just continued his walk and left them to sort her arm in the med bay alone.

Maybe things would be easier for him right now. Hell, there’s no way he’d be in this party right now in that alternate reality. She’d probably be happier too. She looks pretty happy right now as she laughs at something Parker said and Bucky steps closer.

Bucky barges in at exactly the wrong time. She and Parker are talking about something he knows nothing about. “Yeah I do my research,” she says. “25 Gen Z slang phrases all parents should know. Very informative. Keeps me up to date with the new trends.” He watches Peter laugh with her and feels like he wouldn’t mind another round with the Spiderling. He needs to get over this absurd jealousy now, before it bites him in the ass.

He just can’t seem to get rid of it though. Not as he watches her on the dance floor or later after three different men attempt to buy her a drink. She steals his soda out of his hands instead and drags him to an Avengers only room where most of the team is sitting. Bucky is reminded of this very room filled with these very people with two beautiful women discussing their negligees and then leaving all the men in an awkward position.

Bucky must be putting off some ‘let’s talk about our clothes’ vibes, because that’s where the conversation almost immediately heads. Once Natasha notices their presence she pronounces her stunning and like an angel sent from above. She’s nothing like an angel, but that’s not Bucky’s place to comment.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” She asks Natasha, twirling for the rest of the room to see. Bucky’s just glad that there’s not many people in here and that none of them are Tony Stark. “Bucky paid for it,” she says flashing a smile at him. It’s true; he did, just not in the way he would’ve liked to. Instead she managed to set up a credit card in his name and use it to go shopping.

Okay, fine she had helped him set up the card and as a thank you he had let her use it for a few hours. Bucky just didn’t realize how much of a dent she could make in a few hours. He takes another look at her in the dress and figures it was money well spent. He’d do it all again for sure.

Bucky can’t help himself; he’s just got to ask her. “But is it as nice as the one that fucker gave you?” Yes, he knows Richard’s name now and yes he knows that there’s a tricky history there, but whatever he’s with his friends and he’s had a few of Thor’s specialty drinks earlier in the night. If their just starting to hit him now, then there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

“Yes it is and you don’t need to be jealous, Betty. There’s no one else like you. Besides,” she adds in as afterthought, still spinning around in her gown. “He’s married now, and I don’t do that, so I won’t be seeing him anytime soon.”

It’s not exactly the answer Bucky was looking for, but who knows maybe some people change. Maybe Richard wasn’t such a dick after all. Maybe he could have a very happy life and wife and marriage.

The night moves on without him and then catches all back up to him at once. She’s approached him at the bar, her high heels missing from her feet. He puts down his drink to give her his full attention. She deserves nothing less.

“Tell me what you’re thinking!” She’s shouting over the music, but it’s not necessary. He can hear her demanding this information, not asking for it. Bucky figures she’d be able to read it clearly on his face, but it is nice to know he can still shield some things from her. Maybe if he just uses his thoughtful while confused face all day long then she’ll never be able to read him again. But he’s not sure he’d like that either.

“I’m thinking,” he pauses for dramatic effect. “You owe me a dance.” She frowns at that, stepping back slightly. That is not the reaction Bucky was expecting. He’s seen her dance all night long. Is he really that disturbing, disgusting, repulsive?

Her face transforms after seeing his face fall and Bucky wants to not forget her initial reaction, but it’s so hard when she’s grabbed both of his hands and pulled him back out in the main room. They head towards the dance floor, his synthetic hand gripped tightly in hers and he forgets all about how she might not actually want to dance with him. It’s easy to forget everything else when she’s right in front of him, seconds away from being in his arms.

All of the coordination she had previously possessed apparently evaporates once they begin to dance. All the times before when she was dancing it came naturally, but Bucky gets the feeling that this time she’s as nervous as he is. She is hard to lead (not unexpected) and far too daring (also not unexpected). Her legs flounce about stepping on his toes and he on hers although she doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Bucky throw me in the air,” she begs. “Like in the movies,” she says, leaping out of his arms ready to dive into the stars. She’s sparkling in his arms but he’s not ready to let go just yet. At least not until they’ve danced another song or two more.

“Darling I think we’d better stick to the ground. In fact,” he adds with a wicked smile. “I think my feet would prefer if we stuck to swaying.” Instead of a quick remark like he was expecting, she only laughs and settles back into his arms. Swaying it is then.

A song and a yawn later, her head finds a place on his chest. They rock back in forth and Bucky imagines the two of them to be alone among the stars until the clapping starts. They’ve gained an audience. He’s not sure if it’s from their attempted waltz or their more recent swaying but sure enough they are not alone.

It’s nearly midnight and people are telling them to kiss. He doesn’t recognize any of the faces or understand why they stare at them or all people. It’s not New Year’s Eve and no one else is kissing, but he really wants to and so in a thoughtless motion he makes his move.

She pulls away at the last second and drops her arms off of his body. He lets her step away from him and he hears the people around them boo. He watches her face go from afraid to shocked to embarrassed and then she turns to leave. He lets her go one way and he goes the other, ignoring the people around him pulling on his sleeves.

He doesn’t know why he was so stupid to think she would want that. He can’t explain it because he doesn’t understand it. What he does understand is that he fucked up again.

_Sunday, March 18, 2018._

“I don’t see what the problem is here, Buck. She’s perfect for you. She’s got all the characteristics required to balance you out and she’s got an affinity for old movies. And she listens to weird music that you like. And she likes to lounge on the couch with you all day and watch shitty TV? What more is there!” A quiet morning is out of the question when Steve hears that she’s moved out of the Tower and in with a friend.

“Look, Steve,” Bucky starts. He’s not sure how to explain this without going there’s so he just goes there. “We almost-” Bucky cuts himself off. There’s no use now Steve is just going to push even more, but he doesn’t know if he can say it out loud.

“What?” Steve says, exasperated by Bucky’s ill-timed pause.

Bucky just doesn’t want to admit it. He knows a dozen people saw and even if Steve wasn’t one of them, he’s bound to find out sooner or later. “Well we almost kissed.” Steve looks giddy with this information. “But we didn’t.” Steve’s face falls

“What did you do this time?” Steve’s voice is tinged with sadness and probably regret. But mostly Bucky picks up on the disappointment and the disapproval. He’s immediately annoyed by it.

“I didn’t do anything,” Bucky informs him. “She stopped it okay. She did it before too. She doesn’t want this.” He’s not sure if he’s referring to a relationship or just to himself. “She said she wasn’t looking to mess this all up for a one night stand.”

“A one night stand,” Steve nearly shouts. “What the hell did you do?” Steve is furious and Bucky doesn’t care. What does Steve know about any of this anyway? He still hasn’t moved on from his first love. He could have any woman in the world, even her, and he has eyes for a woman who he buried a few years ago. Steve has no place to comment on his life.

“You know her,” Bucky explains. “That’s her style.” He’s being cruel and it doesn’t sit right with him. He’s not like that, she’s not like that either. He’s dismissing all of the other aspects of her and simplifying it all to this. It’s heartless of him, but he feels like it’s apt for the moment.

Steve doesn’t like that. Not one bit. “Maybe this is for the best,” Steve tells him harshly. “If that’s what you think of her then you don’t deserve her after all.”

Well isn’t that what Bucky’s been trying to tell Steve and everyone else all along? Despite the two of them now being on the same page, Bucky feels horrible. He might not have deserved her but that didn’t mean he didn’t want her. It didn’t mean that he didn’t crave and desire her. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to regret this night for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Third Eye Blind's Semi-Charmed Life which I think actually fits the chapter quite nicely considering chapter titles are something I somewhat arbitrarily pick at the very beginning. Thanks for reading!


	14. I had all and then most of you

_Saturday, March 10, 2018_

You’ve heard some of the best news of your life and yet you still feel so weird. Jumping into Bucky’s arms for a big hug upon hearing that you won the lawsuit felt right in the moment, but strange every moment afterwards. That was yesterday and things are still weird between the two of you.

Today is Bucky’s 101st birthday, but according to Steve, you’re not supposed to do anything about it. Just as Steve requested, there’s nothing special. You wished him a casual happy birthday in the morning, and he had thanked you with cereal still in his mouth. You supposed that if he hadn’t learned manners by now, it was simply too late.

You had spent most of your morning in your room applying to half a dozen jobs. You’re in no real rush, but you know how long the application process can drag on for and you need something else to do. You’re not sure you can keep it lowkey for Bucky’s birthday if you’re expected to be around him.

After your fingers are aching from retyping every last bit of your resume into separate fields on a website only to also attach your resume in a separate section, you head downstairs. Unfortunately Bucky’s in the kitchen, but you figure he’s quickly figure out what you’re up to. You go within a foot of a knife and it’s like he can sense it. He just knows how clumsy you can be in the kitchen.

You’re still obeying Steve’s wishes, but you can’t not make Bucky a birthday cake. Besides it’s not a big deal, hell, Bucky himself had helped you make for crying out loud. You just couldn’t keep any secrets from him these days. Not that you wanted to anymore. You wanted a clean slate and you’re pretty sure you’re getting one.

Your cake had turned out delicious and after a lazy night of movies everyone else had headed to bed, leaving the two of you alone. That always seemed to happen these days. “Hey, um, can I show you something?” You’re surprised but willing to see what Bucky is talking about.

You follow him out of the living room and into the elevator. He takes you upstairs and oddly enough into his bedroom. This is definitely not what you were expecting. He opens the door, and you are even more surprised. The room looks very different. You’re not sure if he repainted it or if the lighting’s different but it looks like a whole new room.

“Steve helped me,” he explains sitting on the edge of his bed. “Got me a new TV too.” You look up at the wall and there’s now a flat screen for Bucky to watch from his bed. You compliment it and the room as you jump up onto the bed as well.

Bucky swallows hard and grabs the remote from his nightstand. “So, um do you wanna watch something?” You nod and easily take the remote from his hands, turning on something familiar. This way you can laugh and pay attention if you want and laugh and not pay attention if you want to do that instead.

You sit in silence for a while both of you too afraid to do anything but breathe. Eventually a funny scene comes on and you scoot closer to him in your laughter. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, and you lean against him. It’s comfortable and maybe things are finally looking up for you two.

“Hey,” Bucky murmurs and you look at him. It’s dark but the TV’s casting enough light to make his eyes look blue. You think it might just be your favorite color in all the world. His hand comes up to your chin and you lean in and start to close your eyes before realizing what is about to happen.

Your brain spins out of control and you jerk yourself back, falling off of the bed. Bucky doesn’t catch you but watches you fall and sprawl out on his new rug. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you realize that you are very much afraid. You’ve been with plenty of men before, but you don’t want this time to be like that. You don’t want Bucky to be like that and you’re not sure if you start you’ll be able to stop yourself from making him just another name on the list.

“Woah, okay, I’m sorry, my bad,” Bucky immediately apologizes in a long ramble. He sounds apologetic but he’s also just sitting there. He hasn’t gotten up or even offered a hand to help you off of the floor. But that’s not his fault. You put yourself here, literally put yourself here.

“No worries,” you say like you’re reading the closing of an email rather than responding to him responding to you rejecting him. He’s assuming that you hooked up with Sam. You can see it in his face. You did not ever hook up with Sam. You need to explain yourself right now, right away before he gets the wrong idea! “I didn’t-”

Bucky cuts you off looking less than pleasant. “I don’t need to know.” You get onto your feet, feeling sheepish. “I don’t care about what you do with Sam or anyone else.” You need to tell him it’s not true right this second before he makes even more assumptions.

“God no I mean like damn he’s-” You’re going about this all wrong and you’re almost thankful that Bucky stops you before you start making comments about Sam. You need to stop thinking about Sam all together.

“Yeah I get it,” Bucky cuts you off again, harsher this time. He’s refusing to look at you now, eyes focused too hard on the television.

“But no I didn’t hook up with Sam. I wouldn’t do that.” You feel like you’re pleading now. Begging for him to realize that you’ve only had eyes for him this whole time. But it’s too late. You took it too lightly before. You had meant to only joke about how handsome Sam was and finish with how handsome Bucky is as well, but you didn’t get the chance. And now your chance is gone. 

Bucky thinks there’s something between you and Sam. And when Bucky makes his mind up about something he is very difficult to sway. It was one of the things that drew you to him, even that first night when he was so unwilling to let you out of your sight. He had to make sure you got your arm taken care of, even if it meant calling Steve. And yet now you wish you could say something to him to change his mind.

But he clearly doesn’t think of you like that anymore, if he ever did. Was he even going in for a kiss in the first place or was it all in your head? Maybe you had been the one to move forward and this was all your fault! What can you possibly say to make this better?

“I can’t mess this up. I love coming here too much. And our friendship- me and Sam- it’s too strong. Now you and me pal,” your voice is teasing and sarcastic and why are you doing this to yourself? Bucky’s leaning into it, but you’re still just not ready. “Ha got you there sucker.” Bucky’s face falls even further than before. You definitely made the wrong call. Maybe he was going in for the kiss and now you’re ruining it again. But your fear outweighs all logic and emotion. You simply can’t do this.

“But seriously no, I can’t sleep with you or Wilson no matter how tempting because I don’t wanna lose this.” You gesture to the room you’re in, meaning the Tower in its entirety. Everything from carpet to the AI in the ceiling is wonderful. “I mean I love being here! Who else am I supposed to hang out with in this city? You guys are my friends now!”

Bucky’s face has gone hard and great now you’ve really fucked up his birthday. You were just supposed to have a nice movie night for him, lowkey and casual. You wanted him to be happy and you figured there was no harm in a little cuddling. You figured that no harm would be done. Okay maybe you weren’t that naïve, but you wanted it.

You wanted to lay back down on his bed and everywhere else with him by your side. You wanted to feel his cool metal arm against your arm and his warm body against your body. You wanted all of that and more, you just figured he wouldn’t want it. Or maybe that he wouldn’t make a move. Or that it wouldn’t lead to a disaster.

But it has and now you’re paying for it. He’s going to hate you. You hate yourself for being like this as well. You just keep digging your hole deeper and deeper. “It’s not a big deal, Betty,” you tell him even though it feels like a very big deal to you.

“You’re right. Sorry,” he says in response, but it’s like he’s talking to you above ground and you’re in a swimming pool. You feel worse and worse by the second, but you can’t back down now. You should, but your running mouth won’t let you.

“No worries, Buck. I don’t wanna offend you or anything. I mean you’re hot. I’d love to celebrate your birthday properly but let’s face it I don’t wanna give this up. I like lounging on the Avengers’ couches a little too much to ruin it over a one night stand. And besides you’re like my best friend now. So yeah.”

You pat him awkwardly on the shoulder and walk to the door. You need to get out of here. Talking about one night stands with him? What were you thinking?

_Sunday, March 18, 2018._

A full week later and you haven’t managed to get your head on any straighter. After announcing to Bucky that you weren’t interested in a one night stand that night you wondered if that made Bucky curious in other plans. Like a real relationship. The thing is, you’re not sure you’re ready for that either. Any relationship you’ve had lasting more than a night has ended in disaster all the same. You don’t want that to happen to you and Bucky.

But apparently Bucky didn’t understand that and how could he have? You didn’t stop flirting with him or laughing with him or spending time with him during that week. You had meant to give yourself space, but you were still living in the Tower, still looking for an apartment and a new job, and you just couldn’t get away from him.

It was like he’d sneak up on you when you were at your most wonderful. Unable to focus on apartment listings within your budget he’d show up sweaty after a long workout. Or you’d be talking with Wanda about literally anything at all and he’d show up and you’d forget your entire train of thought.

It was simply too much. Too embarrassing for you when others saw your interactions with each other, too thrilling for your libido when you saw his body move and muscles flex, and too bad for your heart as it sped up faster and faster whenever he got close.

Embarrassed is the biggest takeaway after last night’s performance with Bucky at the St. Patrick’s Day party. When all of those people had started to watch you, you’re not sure, but you’re sure that had they not been around, you would’ve kissed him. You tried to tell him as much, but simply didn’t have the chance to.

Rejecting Bucky in such a humiliating way in front of a crowd is the last thing you wanted to do. But kissing him for the first time in front of a crowd wasn’t something you wanted to do either. You tried to find him afterwards to tell him that you do want to kiss him and be with him and love him and all that, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You don’t blame him. This isn’t the first time you rejected him, and you figure he’s not going to try for a third time.

You can’t imagine how bad he feels, but you end up leaving the party feeling like shit. You end up leaving the Tower the next day as well, still feeling like shit.

_Thursday March 22, 2018_

Time passes and you don’t contact Bucky and he doesn’t contact you. You had gone on long breaks without talking before, but that was all before the break in and your subsequent moving in. But the proximity had been too much, and you had found a sublease to sign a few blocks away with a start date of Monday, March 19. You had taken it and thought that everything would all work out again.

It turns out that space was not the only issue. Your naïve thoughts that you were over Bucky and all of that surrounding him and that things were going to work out between the two of you was wrong. You were so incredibly wrong.

Your one interaction post kiss rejection was horrible. Bucky had refused to say hello to you and when you asked for a word in private away from Steve and Sam he had left without a single word. You should’ve just said it right there in front of his friends. It didn’t matter if Steve and Sam knew. You didn’t care if the whole world knew you wanted him to kiss you.

You regret it all so much, but you are also grateful for the way it has worked out. Clearly the two of you are not meant to be and so finding out this way is better than finding out a week into the relationship. Maybe the first few days would’ve been blissful, spent in his arms and in his bed, but things would change. They always did and not in the way you’d like them to. 

So after moving out you’ve kept your distance. You don’t work at Stark Industries anymore and so there’s no need to visit Avengers Tower. You’re still interviewing and applying for jobs but thanks to the lawsuit settlement, you’ll be fine for a while. Financially fine that is. Emotionally, you’re still a bit of a mess.

That much would be clear to anyone, but especially to the Black Widow. Natasha had stopped by to shake some sense into you. She tried to convince you to come back with her to the Tower and to just hang out. Her convincing doesn’t work. Not after the first time and not the next three times after that.

You’ve had your time in the spotlight, twice now in fact. The first time when the media latched on to you as the face of favoritism at Stark Industries and then again as a result of that media frenzy when you danced with Bucky. The pictures of the two of you had never leaked, but while you were pretty sure that Bucky was oblivious to your longing stares, everyone else knew that he was the Avenger in question that was making you said favorite.

You’re trying to be a reasonable rational grown up. The thing is, you’re not. You’re childish and afraid of what Bucky might say to you. You’re scared of the power he holds over you. You’re scared of the fact that you would do anything for him at all. You’re scared that he’s going to break your heart. Too bad you’ve broken it yourself.

_Saturday March 31, 2018_

Another two weeks later and Natasha still hasn’t given up. She visited just a few days ago, but you sent her on her way without even letting her in. Thankfully she hadn’t pushed herself into your apartment like she usually does because then she would’ve seen all the boxes.

Just this Thursday you received an unexpected call from your brother. Your mother has been diagnosed with breast cancer (again) and this time she’s having a mastectomy. Your brother is ready to guilt trip you into coming home to help, but it’s not necessary. Any reason to pull you out of this city is good enough for you. Besides, you need to be there for your mom. You owe that to her after all that you’ve put her through.

It’s convenient that Bucky made you move out after the break in. Your original apartment has been vacated and now you’ve got nothing attaching you to this city. You’re sublease on this apartment is until next month, but it doesn’t matter to you. You’ll be living at home rent free soon and honestly you just don’t care. Even without this family emergency you can’t stay. You can find a new job in your hometown and start another life there. You don’t have a home here anymore. Not a physical home. And so you leave.

Dear Natasha,

I know this will come as a shock to you when you come here and see my room empty. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when you last visited but I knew you wouldn’t let me leave. My mother is having a mastectomy due to a reoccurrence of breast cancer and I need to go home to help.

I’m sorry again for everything. Please give everyone my best and let them know how much they mean to me.

I know you can easily find my new address and find me, but I’m asking you please don’t. I’m not going to be changing my phone number or my name or my hair. I ask that you please give me privacy as I live out the rest of my life.

I will miss New York City and the Tower, but most of all I’ll miss the people in it. You’ve all been so lovely to me and I will never forget it. I miss you already and I’ll always think of you all dearly.

Sincerely,

Y/N

“Why don’t you go after her?” Steve is furious at Bucky and he doesn’t know why. Why is Steve getting involved in his business when there’s nothing Bucky can do about this? He can’t change her mind now. She told them to leave her alone. Why can’t Steve just leave him alone?

“You love her, Bucky! Why can’t you see that you love her!” Steve’s gone hysteric. He gets up in Bucky’s face to intimidate him, but that’s not going to change Bucky’s mind.

“I don’t love her!” Bucky roars in anger. He thought he was sad, and that he could move on from this without feeling anything else, but not with Steve ranting and raving at him like this. “She was just an infatuation! A crush! Nothing more!”

Bucky can’t see Steve shaking his head, but he knows it happens. He can hear Steve saying, “goddamn it, Bucky,” and he can hear Steve leave him alone. He’s alone and that’s how he likes it, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is heartbroken but refuses to acknowledge it :( 
> 
> Chapter title is from Lord Huron's The Night We Met.
> 
> Also I have fallen behind my ridiculous schedule so we'll see if I still get two more chapters posted tomorrow like I planned...


	15. I love to see her face in daylight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where some of the tags starting applying. There's mentions of domestic violence, suicide, cancer, and (a lot of) character death. It's not meant to too explicit but it will be sad :(  
> Hopefully not too sad though :)
> 
> I finished this up during my lunch break so hopefully it's not full of errors. Editing up chapter 16 now and I'm somehow still on schedule to finish this all by Thursday!

_Friday, April 18, 2025_

“Betty!” Bucky turns around on instinct, nearly dropping his hot coffee and spilling it all over him. Thankfully that doesn’t happen. He’s not sure what would be more embarrassing, responding to the name Betty in public or spilling coffee all over oneself after hearing the name Betty. At least no one else in the park appears to notice.

He’s not sure if he did react to the name itself or to the voice that calls it. Maybe it’s the combination of the two, because as he spins around to locate the sound, he sees her. She’s charming and beautiful and all smiles as she waves him over. He can’t help but jog over to her. Judgmental onlookers be damned; it’s been a long and hard couple of years.

It’s been seven years since they last spoke, two years of actually living it and Bucky has been struggling through every day of it. But none of that matters when she approaches him and throws herself into his arms. His coffee is definitely spilled now but her hair smells different than he remembers and that’s all he can focus on.

“Al,” he says releasing her and giving her a good look over. Ever since that karaoke night she’s interspersed Betty among his other nicknames, but he’s not entirely sure he ever did the same. _If you’ll be my bodyguard I can be your long lost pal._ He’s been a shitty bodyguard over these years but at least she’s living up to the song she chose all those years ago.

“How have you been?” They nearly say it at the same time and both chuckle awkwardly. Bucky fiddles with his now half-filled coffee cup and hopes she’ll answer first. “Busy,” she tells them her smile brighter than anything around. “Very busy, but good. I’ve been good, you?” Bucky can’t detect any exaggerations in her words, and he hates to admit it, but it pains him just a little.

She looks really good too. She’s clearly happy and content with the way her life is going. Bucky can’t say the same about himself. “Good, good,” he tells her sounding as chipper as he can muster. He looks around the place, hoping to change the conversation to something more casual. “What are you doing here, finding a new man?” He gestures at a few of the more attractive young men jogging past them on the path.

Thankfully she takes his comment as teasing and not unkind. He’s not sure which way he meant it to come off as, but this is definitely the better option. Some part of him is still bitter, but the rest of him really does just want to see her happy. She sips her own drink and grins at him. She really does look so happy.

“I always did like the bad boys,” she laughs easily and then makes a funny face. “Still do pick all the bad ones, even after all these years.” She changes topic and mentions Sam, wanting to know about him and how he’s doing: if he’s settled down with a woman, if he’s as active on the team as the news presents. Bucky doesn’t want to talk about Sam. He wants to change the conversation right back to where it was before.

He wants to know about her and who she’s been seeing. It may be nosy, but Bucky is dying to know if she’s single. She’s not wearing a ring which is delightful, but she could still be in a happy relationship. He needs to know. “Sam’s still single,” he tells her, and she looks disappointed by that rather than pleased which pleases him greatly. He knows by now that she and Sam never had a thing, but he still gets jealous sometimes of whatever was between them.

He might as well just go for it. It’s been seven years and he’s got nothing much more to lose. “Are you single?” Her smile doesn’t quite drop off of her face, but it doesn’t stay their either. She takes another sip of her drink but this time it’s clearly to put off answering.

“I am single,” she informs him, sounding distant. They’re quiet for a moment and Bucky’s not sure what else to say. She didn’t ask about his relationship status and he feels weird bring in it up now. “You know I almost resent you?” Bucky’s not sure where she’s going here. “It’s just not fair how much more alive I used to feel then. How sparkly I used to feel back then. Or at least looking back on it maybe it just feels that much better.” Bucky feels exactly the same way.

It’s almost as if he’s spent a week in the Alps and suddenly there’s so much more oxygen than his lungs know what to do with; she’s that oxygen. Every breath is full and strong, and he can run for miles farther than usual. But the question remains, run closer or farther away?

“I simply don’t learn,” she says with a sad smile. She glances at him for a second longer than necessary. He realizes he’s probably being too quiet again.

“You look older,” he says. “But not that much older.” He’s not sure how to talk to her to get her to like him, but he figures talking at all is the first step. Besides, she was the one to approach him first. Maybe her first step was all they need.

“I blipped,” she responds, looking at him carefully. “You look older too but still not your age.” Bucky smiles at that. “Is what I hear in the news right? You blipped too?” He nods in response.

Things are different between the two of them. He can feel it and he knows she can too. It’s not that the passion and charisma is gone maybe it’s just settled over time. He doesn’t see her in the bold and the bright. He doesn’t need her and crave her in the utmost and the extreme. He just sees her as her. Maybe the her who has been there all along.

He wonders if she sees the same in him. Or maybe he’s in over his head and his heels again. She’s never really reciprocated what he felt. She’s never really demonstrated what he felt. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t feel it right? He believes so. And if she felt it once then she might still feel it now.

And there’s the hope again. Even after all these years it still nudges its way back into his thoughts. Maybe things could change. Maybe there could be a something between them. Maybe there always was and now is just the right time as well as the right people.

“So what’ve you been up to? Movie dates with Craig?” He means to keep it lighthearted but that’s clearly a failure when he sees her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

She interrupts him, assuring him that it’s okay. “He actually passed away just last year. He wasn’t blipped and I’m sure he had a hard time of it. But he lived long enough to see his loved ones again and we stayed in touch. I actually came back to New York for his retirement party a couple of weeks before the blip. Maybe I should’ve reached out. I thought about it.”

Bucky mentions a few of the regrets in his own life, nothing too serious. They both know that his biggest regret in life is her. Or at least he’s pretty sure she knows that. Instead he talks about how he’s trying to make more of his life now. How he’s realized that the simple joys in life like ice cream in the park is something he never wants to take for granted again.

It feels a bit too on the nose, discussing something that they had so obviously done together so many times. She doesn’t comment on it though, not even to offer to buy him an ice cream now. It was too much to hope. She might be single, but she did leave without saying goodbye all those years ago.

Bucky suddenly feels terrible, realizing that he never asked her about her mom. After all, she had left New York to care for her mother, or so she had claimed. She answers his question and confirms that her mother truly was ill. “There were certainly other things I was running from,” she admits, “but mostly I was running towards her.”

She pauses, probably thinking about her mother and Bucky gives her as long as she needs. “She didn’t get blipped and so she passed away thinking I was dead along with half of the world.” She leaves it at that and Bucky’s unsure of what else to add.

“And your brother?” She talked even less about him than of her mother, but Bucky wonders if that changed at all. A lot can change in seven years even if you’re only awake for two of them.

“He didn’t last long after her.” Her voice is slow, void of the feelings one would expect one to have. He can hear her swallow the lump in her throat. “He um, killed himself actually. I don’t blame him; he really did feel all alone I’m sure. His, uh, his note didn’t mention me at all. Not my mom either actually. It, uh, it was just an apology to whoever found him. They actually found me once we were all blipped back. They gave me the note and everything.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what to say after hearing about her mother, but this just confirms that his emotional intelligence isn’t equipped for real life. A tragic life, but still all very real, especially in the world that they now occupy.

“But I’m back here in New York,” she says abruptly as if it’s not obvious. “Not just now I mean. I’ve, oh enough about me.” She interrupts herself easily. “Tell me about you?” She frowns again, realizing the connotation of her words. There’s a lot more death to discuss. Bucky is silent and in her nervousness she fills in the quiet gaps. Bucky’s not sure how he forget about that part of her, but it makes him realize just how much he missed her.

“I was really sad to hear about Tony. He has a little girl doesn’t he?” They stop walking to sit down on a nearby bench. Bucky feels as though the temperature has dropped ten degrees. He just wants to pull her close and never let go.

“Yes. Morgan. She’s nearly six now.” His voice sounds so unattached from his body. He feels so unattached from his body.

“Tony was just so, so, so enigmatic wasn’t he?” Bucky’s not sure why she’s asking. Can she really think about Tony and how he used to be? Maybe she can when she hasn’t met Morgan, hasn’t seen Pepper, doesn’t know how much they’re missing out.

“Sure was. Although I suppose you spent more time with him than me. He was your boss right?” She appears a bit taken aback at his words, almost as if she’s unsure of who he is. Does he actually know her anymore? Did Bucky Barnes ever actually knows her?

He should’ve known and remembered that the very first time she met Tony Stark was when he himself was there. And now? Is Bucky even here now? What is he actually doing here? This is clearly not as he remembered it to be.

“Well, I guess so.” She says, now looking at her hands rather than him. “Although if you go that route it would’ve probably just been Pepper. But I never even saw him until I met you.” They fall into silence. Bucky wonders if he should apologize. If he should tell her that yes of course he remembers that night. That he remembers all the nights with her by his side.

“And Steve.” She waits a breath. “Oh, Bucky I couldn’t believe it with Steve. Is he really gone?” Bucky can only nod. “I always really liked Steve.” She means to say so much with those five words, and Bucky means just as much when he responds.

“He always really liked you.” She smiles up at him, but her eyes are watery now. He has to look away to continue. “He was, uh,” Bucky clears his throat. “He was really upset when you left without saying goodbye.”

“Who? Steve?” She’s confused and Bucky’s not sure if she’s feigning it or not. Was she always this hard to read?

“Yes, Steve! Who else could I possibly be talking about?” Himself. He could’ve been talking about himself. He was also really upset when she left without saying goodbye.

“Oh, I don’t know. I hear that some people revert to third person when speaking about emotional topics.” Bucky dares a glance and is pleased to see that she’s only teasing. Her grin transforms into a smirk as her eyes meet his. She finishes with an over the top wink and it’s so her, Bucky once again has no words to say. At least her eyes are looking drier.

“So, you fought him, Thanos?” She asks, sounding more curious than anything else. He wonders what she’s getting at. Why she’s bringing this all up when they’ve just barely begun to catch back up. Discussing their families, her biological and his adoptive, made sense, but not this.

He nods. Then thinking better of it, “one question only,” he amends. He’s not in the mood to discuss Thanos or the snap, but he also knows that she knows that.

“Is he really that tall? No wait is he really purple?” Her voice is childish and bright and so carefree. So unlike all that the individual she asks about stood for.

Bucky has to laugh. “Of all the things you could ask you want to know if he’s really purple?” She nods enthusiastically. “Well then yes, he is purple, or uh was purple.” She appears to ponder this for longer than one would think necessary. When she finally speaks, Bucky realizes he should’ve known that wouldn’t be enough. There’s always more when it comes to her.

“Damn so Parker really got to go to space?” She’s mostly teasing, but Bucky’s pretty sure that this is the real question she wanted to ask all along. Why though he’s not sure. She did always have a soft spot for the kid, but what about the rest of them? What about him? Doesn’t she want to know if he went to space?

Bucky groans. “Don’t tell me you actually believe that garbage they put on TV these days. How would me telling you Thanos was purple lead you to that conclusion? And besides I said one question!” She smiles again having got her answer. With all of his training, Bucky can’t seem to properly lie to her.

“Just a hunch. Besides, the purple Thanos theory actually started as a meme. A meme, do you know what that is by now old man?” Bucky refuses to acknowledge her smite. “Well that meme was started by someone at MIT. The very school that one Peter Parker attended. Attends?”

Her eyebrows furrow in the cute way that Bucky likes. “Hang on was he blipped or not? Are we like the same age now?!” Bucky can’t imagine what that could mean if they were. Bucky’d surely be replaced if he hasn’t been already. The way the two of them had danced and laughed that night was so pure.

“Nope. He was blipped too.” He’s not sure if you're pleased or disappointed by this information. He frowns. “Wait how do you even know where a meme started?”

She takes a breath ready to give a proper explanation of the history of memes and this one in particular, and Bucky realizes he actually isn’t interested. At all. “You know what, never mind. I’d rather hear about why you’re here in New York without telling me. You better not be living here again.”

He’s teasing but she looks guilty all the same. Bucky’d be lying if he said that wasn’t at least one of the goals of his phrasing.

“I am living here again.” She gestures widely while doing so and although Bucky understands the meaning to be along the lines of que sera sera, he can’t help but joke.

“In the park, are you roommates with the birds then?” The birds chirp in response, appreciating being acknowledged. She jerks her foot at one that gets too close, and it flies off in a hurry.

She doesn’t brighten at his teasing like she used to. Instead she sighs. “I’ve been here nearly a year now. Honestly I was hoping to never run into you again. Thought it’d be easier.”

Bucky doesn’t understand. “But you’re the one who called out to me. I wouldn’t have noticed you if you hadn’t yelled out for Betty. By the way, I’m entirely horrified that I still respond to that name.”

She ignores his attempts at lightening the situation. “I really don’t know why I did that. I couldn’t help myself I guess. Always fucking things up.” The last bit is barely a whisper, but she must’ve forgotten of his super hearing and he won’t be the one to remind her.

“So, are you still working for Stark Industries? Or what?” He wants the conversation to stay casual, but he also is dying to know more.

“No, actually I’m with a newer company. Have you heard of Quentin Beck? He’s my new boss.” Thankfully she laughs upon seeing Bucky’s startled face. “I guess that answers my question that you aren’t as removed from society as when I first met you.”

He’s pleased to see that she seems to have retained her ability to mess with him. “No, I’m working for XYZ Corp. They paid big bucks for me to take over as VP of R&D in New York. So much I couldn’t say no. I figured it was a big enough town for the both of us.” 

Bucky frowns again. “Hey, not like that. I did miss you. A lot actually. I used to wonder if- uh anyway. I wasn’t sure if you held grudges or not and so I figured I wouldn’t try to connect on LinkedIn or anything.”

He’s quiet and he knows what she’s thinking. Yes, he does know what LinkedIn is, but no he’s pretty bad with keeping grudges these days. She’s made him soft, but in a good way. They're quiet for a while watching a pair squirrels chase each other up and down trees. “Penny for your thoughts,” she asks him.

He smiles at her. Some things have changed, a lot of things have changed, and she still can’t help but want to know what he’s thinking. When she’s not reading his mind, that is. “You can do better than that,” he tells her.

“What?” She asks, sounding a bit exasperated and a bit hurt. She thinks he doesn’t understand her anymore. As if he ever properly did. “It’s a totally normal saying. I just wanna know what’s going on in that ancient mind.” Her voice goes up at the end so that it’s clear that she’s teasing. He wonders if she’s still good at reading him or if that’s faded with time too.

“No,” Bucky explains. “You can pay more than that.” His voice remains the same, but he gives her a weak smile. However, she frowns at the thought of paying more and he can’t help but smile for real. “Come on. Inflation? That saying is from the sixteenth century.”

“No way,” she says. “I don’t believe you.” Still obstinate and he still finds it charming as hell.

“I don’t care,” Bucky tells her. “It’s true. Go ahead and look it up later.”

She shakes her head and Bucky thinks the conversation has been evaded until she asks, “dollar for your thoughts?” Bucky just laughs and so she raises the price. “Hundred dollars? Thousand?”

Bucky’s got entirely different thoughts on his mind now and he certainly prefers these. “I am thinking,” he muses slowly, “that you can go higher than that.”

She laughs brightly. “Ten thousand but I’m gonna have to take out a loan first,” she teases. She grabs his hand and Bucky wants to open up to her. He knows he should and that it would be good for him, but he also really doesn’t want to. He has no idea what’s going on between them and even if it’s nothing at all he doesn’t want to spoil it. Not by doing this.

“I guess,” he says, giving her hand a tight squeeze and then letting go, “I’m just thinking about how easy it all was the last time I saw you. Before I messed it all up that is.” It’s quiet for a moment and Bucky has regrets. He should have told her he was thinking about ice cream or about squirrels and then they could’ve continued their laughs around the park. Now they have to talk about more stuff for real. As if they haven’t talked about enough seriousness already. 

“You didn’t mess it up,” she tells him earnestly. “It was broken to begin with.” Bucky doesn’t believe a word of that. The only thing that had been broken from the start was her stupid arm. They had something; she had to know it. She did know it. So why would she deny it now?

She laughs a bit, her mind clearly elsewhere. “Oh man what a party it was though. Remember when Nat took off her shoes and threw them at that guy?” Bucky does remember that night and the fun they had had before their dance, but his heart breaks at the thought of his friend.

She sees it on his face. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I bet you miss her. I’ve missed her too. But we’ll see her again I’m sure of it.” Has she gotten religious or something? Bucky wasn’t aware she believed in the afterlife. “I mean you have to have heard something from her by now right?”

Bucky feels sick. No, he’d rather talk about the two of them than this. “What you don’t think she’s actually dead do you?” She’s nudging his arm now, but Bucky remains silent. He’s not sure how to say this without crying. He’s not sure how to say this without her hating him again.

“Well she’s not,” she continues. “I mean how many times have people thought that one of you was dead and put it all over the news.” Bucky’s thinking about all the newspapers with Tony’s face and Steve’s face on them. He’s thinking of all the news stories and headlines.

“And then a few months later and oh there’s another Black Widow sighting! Guess they weren’t dead after all!” Bucky remains silent. “She’s not dead Bucky!” She finally yells at him. Bucky lets the other people in the park stare at them. It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.

When he finds his voice it’s broken. His eyes squeeze tight and his shoulders tense. She already knows now from his silence, but he still has to say it to her. “She’s gone. I’m really sorry but it’s true she’s gone.”

She’s not fighting it anymore, but still unwilling to believe. “I mean this is Natasha we’re talking about.” Her hands are fists in her lap and his jaw clenches when he sees her face. She's distraught at the thought of her friend dead. “Did you see a body?”

“No,” he tells her gently. “But I saw Clint’s face. And that was enough.” She’s frozen, just trying to process his words.

Each of her words is a question, entirely uncertain and afraid to believe the truth. “But this is Natasha? She’s surely just in hiding? Maybe in space?”

“No she’s gone. Really, really gone.” He wraps an arm around her and squeezes her shoulder. He can hear her nose sniffing and see her watery eyes. 

“But I never got to say goodbye,” she says and that’s just too much for Bucky. That’s the reason they started this conversation in the first place. He shouldn’t even be here right now. He doesn’t even want to be here right now. Not like this.

“Yeah well you’ve seemed to make that a habit haven’t you?” His voice is cruel as he withdraws his arm. She knows exactly what he means and exactly what he really had been thinking about earlier. Forget pennies, she’s paying a very high price now.

“Don’t you dare. I couldn’t say goodbye and you know it.” Her voice is stern but regretful. Maybe even embarrassed. Bucky doesn’t let it go. He can’t let this go. He’s tried now for years.

“No, I don’t know it.” He’s angrier than he should be, but didn’t she always bring all of the emotions out of him at once? Isn’t that what started all of this that summer night? Isn’t that why everyone thought she was perfect for him? Because she made him feel things again? “Tell me why you couldn’t say goodbye before disappearing. And no, leaving that shit note doesn’t count.”

She blows her nose into a tissue and faces him. He doesn’t face her. He just can’t. “If I said it in person I’d have never left! I couldn’t leave and I sure as hell couldn’t stay. You, you were everywhere! Everywhere I went you were there, and I just couldn’t live like that! Not after knowing, well what it could be like to be with you. Even if it wasn’t real. You ruined me.”

Bucky can’t help but laugh at that. He ruined her? Only because she ruined him first. “Don’t laugh at that you asshole. You thought I dated shit men then?!? Well you don’t even know the kind of men I’ve been dating now.” Her voice changes from angry to ashamed. He has a terrible awful feeling he knows where this is going. How she gets when she’s ashamed of what she’s done.

“I moved in with a guy who hit me, Buck.” She’s sad and humiliated and yet she’s got to get it all out. She has to say it all and he knows it’s all true, possibly even fresh. “And I would’ve stayed except that work was getting suspicious. That’s how fucking messed up I’ve gotten since I left.”

Bucky wants to be livid. He wants to yell and scream and then go and kill whoever this guy is. But instead he starts to cry. He did this all to her. Maybe it wasn’t him directly, but she’s right, he did this all to her. It’s his fault.

“I, I shouldn’t have said that.” She's now trying to comfort him, when he should be comforting her. “Forget it, Buck. I was just being dramatic as usual.” They both know that’s a lie. She’s dramatic, but this required no extra pizzazz, this was just her telling it the way it is. 

“Look that’s not the point I’m trying to make here.” She hands him a clean tissue to wipe away tears and blow his nose. “The point is that I’ve been a mess and I fucked up okay. I’ve been a mess since I ran away and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never said goodbye and I’m sorry for all the other stuff in between.”

Bucky’s ready to forgive her. He’s ready to tell her he forgives her and then give his own apology for all the things he did and all the things he didn’t do. He doesn’t get the chance though, because she keeps talking. 

“I’ve been having this dream lately.” She falls into a dreamlike state of reminiscing and Bucky can only stare at her, no thoughts just watching her. “I’m back in my old high school just hanging out near the lockers or whatever. And this man comes up and sits down next to me.”

Bucky’s never been in her high school or really any modern high school, but he’s trying his best to picture the scenario. He always liked listening to her dreams. “And he’s super tall like taller than you, and we start talking. But it gets weird and suddenly he’s on top of me and I’m trying to push him away, but his arms are too long and he’s too strong.”

Bucky doesn’t like this dream, not at all. “But the thing is I’m not scared because I’ve had this dream before. I’m not scared, I’m just waiting and sure enough there he comes. Another man comes barreling down the hallway and fights him off of me. Sometimes he comes as soon as a hand is laid on my thigh. Other times I have to wait and wait.”

“But no matter how long it takes I’m not really scared. Dream me knows that nothing bad is going to happen. I’m not sure why but dream me always knows the other man is coming.” She pauses to open her eyes and look at him, really look at him. It almost feels like déjà vu and she’s about to tell him how blue his eyes are, but she doesn’t.

“The other guy is probably you or something, but you know how I am with recognizing faces, especially in dreams.” She pauses trying to gauge Bucky’s reaction. “So yeah that’s how I’ve been doing, for real. You?”

“Eh,” Bucky is hesitant to answer for real, but she did so he feels the need to reciprocate. “Shitty,” he admits. “But working on it. Everything’s changed and it all happened so fast you know. Steve’s gone, Stark’s gone, Nat’s gone. I don’t even know what we are anymore, but the Avengers keep growing. It’s like every day I show up there’s a new face there trying to replace us. And it’s not a bad thing per se, I should probably just retire anyway, but it’s unsettling.”

She nods in understanding, but she doesn’t really understand. “That sucks, but I think that’s probably just life pushing you forward. You might not want to leave, but maybe it’s not up to you. You are pretty damn old, man!” She teases him, lifting the tone back up, but Bucky remains stern. He is pretty damn old.

They blow their noses and she puts his arm back over her shoulder. He doesn't deserve her. Not when she always accepts his apologies before he can even give them to her. Steve was right; he doesn't deserve her.

“So, um do you wanna come over or something? Maybe continue this without an audience?” The audience is mostly in the form of birds, but a few of the older women at the benches to your left are definitely only pretending to read.

“Sure,” he says. “Why not.”

“Okay now you’re going to wait here.” Bucky eyes jump between her and her front door. “Just give me like five minutes to make sure it’s not a complete mess and then I’ll let you in.” Bucky starts to speak but she reads his mind and stops him. “Nope, I don’t care if you’ve seen my mess. I’m a lady now and I will present myself as so.”

Bucky laughs and rolls his eyes but allows her to enter the apartment alone. He stares at the watch on his wrist, ready to hold her to her five minute promise, but it’s not necessary. Three and a half minutes later she opens the door quickly and pulls him inside. 

He allows himself to be dragged in and takes a quick look around. “God it’s bigger than your last place. But I guess that’s not hard to beat.” They both laugh thinking about her teeny tiny apartment.

“Shut up,” she tells him. “It was cozy! But yeah, this place is way nicer. No break-ins or nothing.” Bucky refuses to acknowledge that reference. He doesn’t need any more serious conversations with her today and there’s only one path that topic leads.

He takes a proper look around the place. The very same Avengers puzzle is framed on her wall. That goddamn night. He gestures to it stupidly, unable to take his eyes away from the many shades of green that threatened to blind him. Stupid Hulk. Stupid puzzle she had made him do so long ago. Stupid night.

“Pepper did it,” she responds easily. It was a Christmas present. Thought about taking it down but I didn’t know where to hide it. Thought it’d be weirder if you found it under my bed.”

“And what would I be doing under your bed?” He can’t help but ask.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs amicably. “Maybe to check for bombs or listening devices? But we also seem to make our way in that direction when we’re alone.” She’s teasing him again, but Bucky is a bit sore on this even if it has been however many years. “It’s alright,” she tells him gently, “No hard feeling over what did or didn’t happen between us.”

She walks into the kitchen and opens a cupboard. “I was thinking tea or maybe hot chocolate?” She pauses to look at him, a stolen Stark Industries mug in each hand. “And then maybe we can talk some more?”

He agrees to all that and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making you all relive Endgame :(  
> Please don't hate me :)
> 
> Chapter title is from Leon Bridges' Beyond and the song in the middle is once again Paul Simon's You Can Call Me Al from their karaoke scene in chapter 5.


	16. With friends like ours anywhere is home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking it back before we move forward…

****

_Friday, March 2, 2018_

“I spent over an hour today in high stress mode. Do not test me.” You look up at Bucky and he’s trying to determine if you’re joking or not. You’re not. “I am two seconds from a breakdown. I just want to work on this puzzle and not think about anything.”

You’ve been living in the tower for two days now and it has been less than fantastic. Meeting with your lawyer today had been a test in controlling your heart rate. There had been multiple points when you had to grip your knees with your hands to stop from shaking. At least you’ve got something fun to do now. Although puzzles aren’t just for fun, you take them very seriously.

This one is a present probably from a fan which features the members of the Avengers in a fun cartoony format. It’s charming and funny and 1,000 pieces. Exactly what you need right now to distract yourself. You don’t even mind when no one else will help you.

You figured Bucky might sit with you at least for a bit, but apparently he’s got other things to do, so after you tell him not to test you or your patience, he makes himself scarce. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so blunt. You didn’t want to talk but you didn’t want to be alone either.

You work on the puzzle late into the night. You just don’t realize that until Bucky’s voice scares the shit out of you. “What the hell are you still doing?” He’s sitting down, right next to you and he still has two eyes so you figure he should be able to answer that himself.

“Gotta finish it,” you mutter, quickly looking back down to focus on the puzzle pieces. You swear you just saw a piece that had the quiver of Clint’s arrows. But thanks to Bucky you got distracted and now it’s gone.

“No you don’t,” Bucky responds, still sitting back not even offering to help you look. How much longer is he going to just sit here and watch? It’s starting to make your anxiety grow again.

“Yes I do,” you remark back childishly. You finish your glass of wine and glare up at him. He’s hard to glare at when he’s wearing a sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants. You’ll have to remember that for next time: don’t try to glare at a sleepy Bucky.

“You’re so dumb,” Bucky says in response to you, but it’s not mean. He sounds tired but also possibly fond. Could the Winter Soldier be fond of you? That can’t possibly be true and the knowledge of that makes you angry. He’s not fond so he’s clearly just messing with your head. Doesn’t he know that you’ve already had your head messed with today? Doesn’t he remember your warning from earlier?

“I am drunk, and I’m scared. Don’t start something you can’t finish Barnes.” You wish you had brought the whole bottle of wine over here now that your glass is empty. The drunk part is an exaggeration, but you are buzzed, and you would very much like to be drunk. The scared part is true. You don’t know what the hell is happening with your lawsuit and it makes you feel stupid. If only you knew half of what to expect.

Bucky is quiet after hearing that and then you hear him move. You figure he’s going to stand up to head back to his bedroom to go to bed, but he doesn’t. Instead he pulls a couch cushion down to the floor and sits on it. His hands hover over the coffee table and his eyes roam the pieces. He’s going to help.

You’re both quiet for a while, slowly working through the puzzle. Bucky’s taken to organizing the pieces based on colors which is helpful. “You know there’s other things you can do to take your mind off of things that isn’t working on puzzles in the middle of the night.” You ignore him and keep trying pieces.

“Things around here can change if you want them to.” You turn up the volume on your music. Can’t he tell that you don’t want to talk? “You belong here, in the Tower, with the team.” His voice is low and slow, and you continue to block it out. He’s talking in big generalities about you and him and the other occupants of the Tower. You hum along with the music to further show that you’re not listening.

“Thank god it fits!” You finally finished Thor’s cape and boy does it look magnificent. Now you’ve just got to find the rest of his head. Nope not that piece, that’s probably Steve’s face. You set it next to his completed shield and make a mental note to work on Steve next.

“Yeah exactly,” Bucky says without looking at you or the pieces you’ve just joined. He’s clearly not noticing you not noticing him. Maybe you should have been listening earlier. Too late now.

“Uh what?” You ask, elbowing Bucky to get him to see the two pieces of cartoon Thor’s face you just put together. He looks it over and hands you a piece that has to be part of Thor’s hammer.

“Never mind,” he mutters and just like that he goes back to working on the red pieces that could be Iron Man, Wanda, or Spider-Man. There’s simply too much red on the team’s color scheme. You wonder who you should talk to about that.

The two of you sit in the living room, the hours ticking by. Bucky gets snacks from the kitchen and you mumble along to various lyrics. Bucky hums occasionally but doesn’t sing a word. It’s too bad; what you heard of his voice from karaoke wasn’t half bad.

The night starts to take its toll on you though. You’ve been awake for a long time and your stressful day combined with working on a puzzle for hours has given you a headache. But you just can’t stop. No, not until this is finished because you just have to. You tell yourself you’ll step away once you finish one step, but you can’t pull yourself away. Even as a kid you were like this, kind of neurotic. Once you started something you had to finish it, no matter what. It didn’t matter what it was.

You mother took one route which was to pull you away and force you, kicking and screaming into bed, where you inevitably made yourself sick, physically throwing up sick. Your father had taken over after a few incidents of that in the few memories you have of him. He played it neutral and just helped you do whatever you thought you had to do until you calmed down enough to walk away, or more often than not, they finished whatever it was.

You mother hated that he was encouraging you and that combined with the fact that your father was very similar to you, meant he left without another word one February night. Your mother had tried to be more like him when you got riled up, but she just didn’t understand. She’d repeat to you over and over again that doing this doesn’t solve the problem at hand, but years later and you’re still not sure if it’s really a problem that can be solved.

Bucky doesn’t seem to be taking either approach though. He’s not treating you as a problem to be solved, just as a companion. He’s sitting by you at four in the morning trying to put this puzzle together and he has no criticisms or comments. He’s not doing this in hopes that you’ll back down and give up. He’s not telling you not to do it thinking that that can magically fix what’s going on in your mind. He’s just there with you.

The thought of him doing that is all at once too overwhelming. You don’t deserve this at all. Not to be sitting in the Avenger’s Tower. Not to be next to an Avenger. Not to have an actual Avenger care about you. The fact that Bucky is that Avenger who cares adds even more guilt to your conscience.

“Woah, woah,” Bucky’s putting down his pieces in a second. “What’s wrong?” You stifle your tears feeling unbelievably stupid. You blot your face on your shirt sleeve and turn back to the puzzle. Maybe if you keep ignore Bucky he’ll just let this go. He doesn’t. “What’s going on,” he asks, and his voice is so gentle, so soft, the tears start falling again.

“Don’t,” you say, standing up to find a tissue. He stands up with you and fetches the Kleenex for you, placing the box in your hands. He looks confused and also hurt. You hope you didn’t offend him. You hope even more that he isn’t feeling bad for you. “I’m fine,” you tell him and toss your used tissues in the bin.

He takes the tissue box out of your hand and offers his spot on the ground for you. He pulls another couch cushion to the floor for himself to sit down. You let yourself sit on the cushion and you sniff loudly. “Can I get you anything?” Again, he’s being too sweet. At least this time you don’t cry. Your tears have dried up for now.

“Hey man relax. No worries. I swear I won’t tell Steve or Natasha you made me cry. Kidding. Kidding.” Bucky doesn’t look any more relieved. “Seriously you’re in the clear.” That doesn’t work either and this is starting to get frustrating. Why can’t he just let this go? He lets everything else go? Why not this?

“I made myself cry. You were just unfortunate enough to witness it.” A few more tears fall unexpectedly, and you wipe them away quickly. Bucky hands you a tissue. You move closer to take it, but he changes his mind and pulls you in for a tight hug.

_Monday, January 8, 2018._

“Bucky what the hell that one was hot.” You grab your phone out of his hands and wag your finger at him in an attempt to be menacing. Or to be flirty. You’re feeling both right now. You close out the app and throw your phone back down on the couch. He sticks his tongue out at you in response. So childish, so unlike you.

“Uhm no he wasn’t,” Bucky says once his tongue is back in his lying mouth.

“Yes he was,” Natasha joins in and thankfully on your side. The guy in question was a seven at best, but there’s no denying that his abs were pretty hot.

“Whatever, this is dumb anyway. Why would anyone want to see the potential men you’re gonna hookup with.” Bucky is pouty in a way that makes your stomach feel like it’s doing backflips and you can’t even do a somersault without doing something weird to your neck. 

“Ooh can I go?” Sam asks picking up your phone. You nod and head towards the kitchen, leaving Sam with free reign.

“What the hell. You hover over me when I have your phone and yet you leave Sam alone with it?” You ignore Bucky’s whining about how Sam knows your passcode as well. Your passcode to your phone is just your birthday but Bucky doesn’t need to know that.

You return and sit down next to Bucky, far away from Sam just to further prove your trust in him. “Sam has impeccable taste,” you say just to rile Bucky up some more.

“What the fuck? You’ve done this before?” Bucky sounds weirded out but not all that surprised. You’re gonna need to step your game up. Now just what can you do to make Barnes squirm?

“Yeah,” Sam says, casually flicking left and right. “I like seeing what I’m up against.” Sam murmurs something to Bucky that your ears can’t pick up, but you figure it’s something about matching you with a decent guy for once. Sam keeps trying to do that which is kind of sweet but also incredibly exasperating. As if he has a better handle on what you need than you yourself do.

“Sam,” you whine and judging by his face, you suspect you were correct about his influence on your matches. “Stop matching me with nerds. Hotties only.” You move to sit down next to him but don’t take your phone back. “Sam’s always trying to get me to go out with a good guy.” You throw up exaggerated air quotes around the words good guy as if your sarcasm wasn’t strong enough already. Bucky looks irritated; it’s perfect.

“Hey Alan K from three miles away messaged you, wanna see?” Sam’s already handing you your phone and you don’t miss the way Bucky cranes his neck to take a look. You take your phone back and Alan K is a large heavily tattooed muscular man who is shirtless in all but one picture. He looks like a complete asshole and his message only proves it.

You hand it over to Bucky nonchalantly. If he wasn’t riled up before, he will be now. “Christ,” Bucky says involuntarily upon seeing the message. “How can men say things like that?”

“Like what?” You ask innocently, knowing exactly what Bucky means. You just can’t help yourself, it’s all too easy to get Bucky going. You take your phone back to send Alan a message. “A slutty whore? I am a slutty whore.”

“No! No you’re not,” Bucky says loudly. “You’re a lovely smart intelligent woman who’s just making some bad life decisions.” Everyone laughs at that. Oh sweet Bucky, not understanding you or the rest of the world. “No,” Bucky repeats again. “You can’t message that guy back. He’s horrible. Don’t do it.”

“I can and I did.” You lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket. “And besides Betty, I am a slutty whore.” You take your phone back out and sit down, right next to him. The side of his body is warm against you. “See, look.”

You show him the pictures of you in your own profile, and he visibly has to recollect himself. It’s hilarious and exactly the reaction you wanted. Your first picture is pretty standard. You in a tank top and a drink in one hand. The outfits get progressively skimpier ending in one with you in a string bikini that you’re pretty proud of. Your boobs look fantastic in that one.

Bucky is left entirely speechless which only makes you and Sam laugh even more.

“Okay well I’m off,” you tell Bucky, fumbling around in your bag trying to find your keys. They’re in here somewhere. If only you could stop putting so much crap in here, they’d be easy to find.

“You’re not really gonna hook up with that guy are you?” Bucky sounds hesitant but not judgmental. Maybe just concerned for your wellbeing or safety. This is sweet, soft Bucky who’s asking questions, not grumpy, mad at the world Bucky. You’re going to have a hard time pulling yourself away from him tonight.

“Nope back home. All alone again for me.” You triumphantly pull your keys out of your bag and wave goodbye at Bucky. He’s just sitting there looking all comfy with his blanket and his blue eyes. You can see that he’s thinking about you and Alan K three miles away. “Besides, he didn’t pass my background check,” you add playfully.

Bucky doesn’t pick up on your jokiness. In fact he’s so shook, he’s unable to finish his sentences. “Did Natasha? Did you? What did you hack into?”

You laugh at his reaction and he frowns. “Jesus Betty I just googled his damn name. Chill out.” He’s too cute even when he frowns. It’s a real problem for you and your heart.

“Okay well be safe okay?” His voice is soft and sleepy from your lazy evening. You wonder if he’ll even go to his own room for the night or just sleep here on the couch. He looks so comfortable with his legs stretched out and you can’t think about that for too long.

“Mhmmm. Good night, Buck.” You turn around quickly so that you don’t have to watch him say goodbye to you. Another glance from him and you’d end up right back on that couch or even worse, right on top of him. It was so hard to control yourself when you were around him, but you figure it’s like an addiction. As long as you don’t try it then it can’t hurt you.

You take the elevator downstairs and get into your uber. Staying this close to him really isn’t a good idea at all. You’d only been alone with him for an hour or two at most and yet you would’ve done anything with him had he asked. You’re going to need to put some space between the two of you before something you regret happens.

_Wednesday, February 14, 2018_

Bucky’s fucked up yet again. Yes, he did was show up uninvited to her apartment. No, he did not think ahead. Yes, he does regret it. And not just because of the way she’s been ignoring him even more. He didn’t mean to intrude on her privacy, he just needed to talk to her. It’s barely been 24 hours, but he hopes she’s already forgiven him. He still wants to talk.

He hadn’t meant to be creepy when he looked up her address without her permission. Really, he hadn’t. He could blame it on his coworkers who were used to doing this sort of thing without a second thought, but it’s not just that. Bucky did this with full knowledge and with no consent from her. Her personal information and address were practically at his fingertips since she was an employee of Stark Industries, but he shouldn’t have done it.

He shouldn’t have done it, but after overhearing some recruits and other Stark Industries employees spreading rumors about her, he felt like he had no choice. He always seems to feel that way around her, like it’s an all or nothing choice and he has to go all in. He wanted to confront her. He wanted to know if it was true. The rumors were pretty vague, but the insinuations of her personal life were extreme.

He had heard two recruits in the gym talking about the way she was always around the team and what that definitely meant. “Well of course she came here looking for men,” one had said to the other, oblivious to the fact that Bucky’s headphones were no longer blasting music. “And she’s clearly got daddy issues,” the other had said in return. Bucky didn’t know what that meant at the time, but he does now.

The worst part of it wasn’t even that it might be true. It was that all of these things were tied to him. The recruits in the gym only mentioned her by name under the breath after glancing at him in the corner. They all thought she was involving herself with him and she wasn’t. Bucky doesn’t mind that they think she is, but she so clearly wants nothing to do with him, and so he doesn’t want her reputation to be ruined by him.

The recruits in the gym weren’t the only ones gossiping. Bucky had stopped by her office one day hoping to catch her before she left for the night and he had heard a conversation on his way out. People in this company really need to learn that he and Steve have hearing better than the average person and to act accordingly. Of course workplace gossip is never good, but it’s also not something one can just ban. It’s always lingering in the shadows.

Their assumptions were rude, but Bucky had felt blindsided by them in a different way. What if she really was always checking out Steve and whispering in his ear. What if she really did laugh at all of Tony’s jokes. What if she really did give Thor a hug that lasted too long? And what if all of this actually meant something? What if it meant nothing at all?

The very something that all of these people thought they had caught on to would just be lies making her out to be some kind of villain. Bucky hates the thought of people thinking badly of her for things she’s never even done. And he’s pretty sure half the things they’re inferring are things she’d never do. She’s got way too much respect for Pepper to mess around with Tony and Bucky trusts Steve. If Steve’s lying about this to him then Bucky’s got no one he can trust and he’s not sure he’d do then.

So he claimed he had a book for her from Steve, but it was just an excuse. Bucky’s not sure if she knew it was an excuse or what she thought but he’s glad he didn’t end up seeing her then. He had taken his bike to her place fully intending to get some real answers from her. She didn’t even end up letting him into her apartment complex and honestly they were both the better for it. They’ve fought about things before like what shows to watch and what foods are acceptable to eat with peanut butter, but not really anything like this.

Bucky can’t put up with putting more distance between them, so he reaches out to his friends for help. Natasha’s advice is to give her more time to cool off. Bucky disregards that unwilling to put this off for a later date. He always makes time for her, and he wants to make that clear. Sam’s advice is to bring her some dinner and Steve’s advice is to bring her some flowers. Natasha chimes in with extra advice, the most important of all: ask her if it’s okay first.

So Bucky does that, asking her if he can come over. His text is awkward and phrased poorly but she responds in the affirmative and he makes his way over. Everything is a disaster from there on out. Maybe Natasha had been right about waiting a day. Bucky should’ve checked the calendar first.

It’s Valentine’s Day and all her favorite foods are booked and full. He can’t manage any takeout anywhere. Flowers are a bust too. He wasn’t planning on getting her a dozen red roses, but if he was it’s not an option. He settles for something brighter, a bouquet the florist calls appropriate for a child or a friend. She’s not a child but she can be childish. Bucky’s not sure if she’s a friend either, but it’s the best he can do. He’s running late and after pissing her off the day before, he doesn’t want to cause her even more strife.

Thankfully this time she buzzes him up and he darts up the stairs nearly forgetting about the bouquet. Thankfully they don’t look too bad. He pulls out his phone to look at himself in the camera, something Sam taught him. He doesn’t look too bad either. He knocks on her door and waits. He waits a few seconds and then knocks again louder.

He’s about ready to give up and call her when the door swings open. “Hey,” she says, and Bucky forgets all that he was going to say. He had words about an apology and barging in and privacy and it’s her life and all that stuff, but it all disappears. She’s wearing the very same sweatshirt she wore the first night they met. The green one with the long sleeves. The one he helped take off of her body. The one he had folded up and put back in her arms. He can’t stop staring.

“Hey,” she says again, not moving to let him inside, but hoping to at least get his brain to restart. Bucky doesn’t mind not coming in. He’s already done enough intruding; they can move at whatever pace she sets. Besides, he can already see most of her small apartment with the door thrown wide open. It looks messy, but also cozy. He likes it.

Bucky still hasn’t gained the brain functionality to speak, but his hands have regained their function. He all but shoves the flowers into her face. She accepts them with surprise and joy. “Oh thank you I love them!” She ignores the few flowers that have been damaged and gives Bucky a grin.

“They represent friendship,” Bucky says blatantly. Great. He better hope she doesn’t repeat that one to anyone else. If Sam or Natasha hears about this, they’ll never let it go.

“Okay friend,” she says charmingly, “but they also happen to be my favorites so good job.” She turns around and walks out of the doorway and into her home. She’s probably going to get a vase or something for the flowers, but Bucky doesn’t find out. He says something, hopefully something friendly like ‘see you later’ or ‘have a good night,’ and then leaves in a rush.

Bucky rides around on his bike for the next hour or two not wanting anyone to know how little time he actually spent in her presence. It’s not that bad though. She liked the flowers and might have even let him inside. He wanted to go inside, but he’s content with his decision for now. As long as he stays away he can’t mess it up.

_Saturday, April 19, 2025._

Bucky thinks about all the ways he used to be. He was so afraid of coming on too strong, so he became so hot and cold with her. Everything was so very black and white in his mind. Everything about her was exaggerated and extreme. Either that or it was nothing at all. He’s so tired of that way of being. It was exhausting to keep up with and very confusing.

Bucky used to be a lot of things, but he thinks he might finally be learning. He used to be very much all or nothing. He used to be sure that she had to either be with him or not with him at all. He used to think that if she was with Steve they’d be perfect together.

He’s finally starting to realize he was all wrong. It wouldn’t have been perfect between them and it won’t be perfect between himself and her either. But that’s okay. He’ll take what he can get, nothing more and nothing less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from The Maine's Another Night on Mars.
> 
> Hopefully this chapter filled in some gaps for you! Thanks for reading!


	17. You're the only reason we rhyme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you! I'm officially behind on my schedule and I really just need to go to bed, but I am optimistic that I can finish and post the last three chapters tomorrow (even if I stay up late). Sometimes when I make a deadline I actually stick with it! I've only got about 5k words of it written but the last two chapters are going to be pretty short. 
> 
> Enough about this... Enjoy chapter 17!

_Saturday, May 31, 2025_

“Sam!” The man in question looks just as happy as she is. Sam wraps her up in a hug and swings her around dangerously close to the table of food. Bucky resists the urge to stop them. He doesn’t want to prevent joy. Not on a day like today. They’ll need all the joy they can find.

It’s a reunion for the Avengers and the Avengers affiliated and he’s brought her along. It took a fair amount of encouraging but she did want to see Sam again and Sam rarely has time off these days. He taken the role of Cap pretty seriously and there’s still plenty of damage to deal with even two years post snap.

It’s not just a reunion though. They had one of those five or six months ago. This is more of a memorial. Just two days ago would have been Tony Stark’s 55th birthday. If Bucky was Pepper he would’ve let the day pass by quickly and forgotten it, but Bucky doesn’t have a kid or the relationship for that matter. Pepper wants to remember Tony in the best ways possible and so they’re having a party. A quiet kid friendly party, but a party, nonetheless.

“You look fantastic,” Sam tells her, and she compliments him in return, both of them having forgotten Bucky. He doesn’t mind, not wanting to spoil any of the fun. The two of them catch up while Bucky chats with Bruce who really isn’t much like the man he used to know. He's large and green for starters. Banner tells him about what he’s been up to and Bucky tries his best to follow along.

There’s not many people here but it’s still overwhelming. Everyone here has been through so much. Everyone here wants to talk to him about Steve. Everyone here wants to know why Steve left and Bucky doesn’t have anything to say.

Eventually she rescues him and persuades him to follow her to the kitchen, offering to bring back snacks for the crowd. “Char- chuh- choo- oh whatever,” she gives up struggling, “where’s the crackers?” He helps her refill the large platter and tries not to stare at her dancing through the kitchen to fetch more things to add to the heaping mound of food.

“What?” She asks and he’s been caught. “Do I have something on my face?” She immediately sticks out her tongue licking her lips, forgetting about her lipstick. “Damn it,” she groans upon realizing. “Phone,” she demands, and he pulls her phone out of his suit pocket for her.

Why the invitation specified semi formal attire makes little sense to him. All the same he followed the rules and she had forgotten a purse, leaving him in charge of her phone. He doesn’t mind. He likes knowing she trusts him with it. Plus that way he knows she can’t leave without him. Yes, he still hasn’t gotten over her leaving without saying goodbye. He might never get over it.

She stares at herself on the screen of her phone and retouches her lipstick. She hands him the phone back and asks how she looks. She looks beautiful and he tells her that. “Ugh,” she sighs, “but the lipstick? Is it okay? Maybe I should find a real mirror?”

He assures her it looks fine and together they carry the charcuterie board back into the crowded room. They’re favorites for bringing in the food and Bucky quickly offers to refill drinks. He likes being liked and if providing these people with food and drink makes them like him then he’ll do it.

The rest of the afternoon passes by quickly. There’s an emotional portion where people go up and say things about Tony and everyone needs tissues when it’s Morgan’s turn. Bucky doesn’t understand the dress code, but he does understand this need that Pepper has to fulfill. Morgan needs to know that all of these people loved and respected her father. This little girl deserves to know how much her daddy sacrificed for her to be here right now. 

There’s a family style dinner and a few more people excuse themselves soon after. Then it’s really just the team plus a few extras. The spaces between them become more prominent. There’s less jokes and less excitement. Even she and Peter who Bucky figured would be the life of the party are subdued. The kid looks so much older than he is, worn out by the years he didn’t get a chance to live.

Pepper returns from putting Morgan to bed and she doesn’t want any of this moping around. "I know it’s been a while, but I remember how much fun this was a few years ago." Pepper leads them into a cozy den where would you fucking believe it a karaoke machine sits. Not a single person moves closer to it.

Even Pepper understands that this just isn’t the right time. “I’m sorry,” Pepper says, and Bucky finally sees the woman cry. "I just wanted people to have a nice night." She was strong throughout that last battle, throughout the funeral, throughout it all. He’s not even sure she shed a tear as her daughter told the crowd that she wishes her daddy could be here with all his friends now.

And yet the sight of a karaoke machine finally makes her break. Happy gives her a hug and rubs her back while Rhodey fetches the tissues. The rest of them just stand and try their best not to stare. Pepper clearly wanted this to be a happy night full of joyful fun memories of her late husband. Sam is determined to give it to her.

“Come on guys,” he says turning the dreadful machine on. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” Shuri perches on the arm of a couch and Scott even takes one of the microphones. Everyone is going to try, and so Bucky will too.

Pepper’s wiped away her tears and beams at Sam who’s still trying to find a song. “How about this?” Bucky freezes. Nope. No, he can’t do this, not even for Pepper. “Pep, did you ever hear Tony call this one Betty?” Sam’s shoving the microphone into his hands. Pepper shakes her head curiously. “These two,” Sam points between him and her, “sang this song once and made such a performance of it, the nickname just stuck.”

That’s not entirely true. Stark might have been the first to call him Betty, but he wasn’t the one to make it stick. No, the girl who looks just as terrified to be holding a microphone made that name stick. He’s not about to correct Sam though. Then he’d be even more of an asshole than he’s going to be now.

“Hey, sorry guys,” Bucky says, handing his microphone to Scott. He turns and looks pointedly at her, tapping his breast pocket, “your phone’s ringing. I think it’s that thing.” Thankfully she catches onto what he’s trying to do and so she shoves her mic into Sam’s face and allows herself to be pulled away from him.

Safely escaped from a scary fate, the two giggle out in the hall. “I should probably call someone now just in case, huh?” He doubts that anyone is going to follow them unless they too want to escape karaoke. Bucky really does want to do whatever will make the still grieving Pepper happy, but he’s not about to sing at Stark’s memorial even if they call it a party.

He reaches into his pocket for her phone and tosses it to her. She catches it one handed and both of their eyebrows shoot up in surprise. More giggles ensue. She taps away on her phone for a second and then holds it up to her face. Who on earth is she actually calling?

“Hello?” She says, “hello, anyone there? Yes, yes this is she. Hmmm I see.” Bucky starts walking down the hall to give her some privacy, but she just follows along. “So I’ve got a guy here,” she announces to whoever’s on the other side of the line. She doesn’t give them any time to respond. “And I’m trying to think of a good way to get him alone.”

She pulls the phone away from her face to wink and Bucky sees that she’s not calling anyone at all. “Know of any good pick-up lines I can use to convince him to give me a chance?” She picks up a bottle of wine off of a table in the foyer and pours herself a glass.

“Are you alone?” Bucky asks her, a smile on his face. She puts down her turned off phone and grins back at him. “Cause you’ve got my interest.” She frowns, her eyebrows furrowing as she tries to understand. “A loan?” Bucky repeats, feeling stupid for trying to play her game, “like a loan at the bank?”

She finally gets it and rolls her eyes at him. The line works though, and she stays by his side as he leads her out onto the porch. It’s chilly even on a May evening, but she refuses his jacket, saying that her drinks keep her warm. She sips on her wine and sits on the porch swing as Bucky stands and admires the view.

The property Tony picked out to start a family on is beautiful even at night and so is the woman he’s with. They chat aimlessly about random tidbits of conversations with other people. He catches her up on Thor’s adventures with Peter Quill. She catches him up on Scott Lang and what it’s like missing out on even more of a child’s life.

Pepper and Sam must figure the phone call is taking too long and so they find the two of them out on the porch chatting. Pepper’s wobbly on her feet, but Bucky can also smell gin, so he figures it’s not just her heels affecting her.

“Bucky,” Pepper says, all smiles once she spots him. “Betty and Al,” she amends quickly. “Oh Tony did love his little nicknames.” Bucky tries to agree with her but it’s clear to him that Pepper’s head isn’t all there. She’s probably remembering a better night than this one. Hopefully one where Tony was by her side fetching her extra olives.

“Betty,” Pepper repeats but Bucky gets the feeling she’s thinking of someone other than him. Sam steadies the widow and starts to lead her back inside, but Pepper’s not done. “Oh there was that lovely song about Betty, now who sang it?” Bucky glances at Sam to see if he knows what she’s referencing but the look on his face is blank.

“FRIDAY?” Pepper asks and the AI responds. Bucky feels oddly better knowing that Stark’s virtual assistant is still here to help Pepper even in her own home. “Play that song. The Betty song please.” Bucky’s expecting You Can Call Me Al to play again but a different song comes on. Pepper hums along to the music for a second, but Sam manages to herd her back inside, leaving the two of them alone. The peace is gone though, it left once Bucky started listening to the lyrics.

Bucky’s not familiar with the song, but he’s pretty sure that’s Taylor Swift singing now _. I think it’s cause of me_. Fuck it all, why does it feel like the whole world is watching. There’s no one on this damn porch but her and yet he feels like he’s on a stage. _It’s like I couldn’t breathe._

She picks up her drink off the floor and starts a good impression of someone who was stranded on a dessert island for weeks. Her mouth quirks and Bucky gets the feeling he’s not going to like what’s next.

Damn it where are all the drinks? Where is Thor with his liquor and his distracting everything? Should he run back inside now before it gets worse? _But this time it was true._ She definitely knows this song and the words, and she is definitely staring at him.

 _The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you._ He’s afraid to look at her. Does she really know this song? Or is this his imagination running wild? Did she listen to this before and think of him? When did this song come out? Is this the real reason she calls him Betty? Does she ever call him that in her mind? _Tell me to go fuck myself or lead me to the garden._

 _In the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing?_ Why did Bucky have to follow her out here? Is this a set up? Why does he suddenly feel so warm?

_But I know I miss you._

He dares a glance at her but she’s now staring out into the yard, looking a million miles away. Feeling a million miles away. Is she still listening to the lyrics? What is she thinking about? Whatever it is he’s not sure he wants to know. He doubts he’s ready for it.

Why she even came tonight makes no sense to him. He’s messed up time and time again. She’d be happier with Steve, but Steve’s gone now; he left everyone here to go live his life. Is he just second best? Is that good enough for him? He’s not sure that any of that matters. It’s likely not up to him.

 _The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you._ He wants to approach her, to make her look at him again so that he can at least try to convey some type of feeling. He wants her to know that he wants her by his side. That he misses her and has been for the past thousand days without her. _I know I miss you._

How can a single song bring him so many feelings? He only had one of Thor’s drinks, surely it didn’t have other things in it? _I dreamt of you all summer long._ Does she know how many nights he went to bed hoping that he would dream of her? Did she ever dream of him?

He’s not sure what he’s feeling right now, but whatever it is he’s definitely feeling it because of her. _Betty right now is the last time I can dream about what happens when you see my face again._ Can Bucky make it up to her? Or is she trying to make it up him? Or is this just a dumb song and he’s overthinking it way too much?

He showed up at least. She did too. Is that going to be enough? _Will you have me? Will you love me?_ Is any of this for him? _Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends_? “Bucky?” He stops his daydream to look at her. She looks so peaceful and some of the tension growing in his shoulders evaporates in response. She can do that to him in a single glance. A single word: his name.

 _I know I miss you._ She pats the spot next to her on the porch swing and he slowly approaches. He sits beside her and tries not to make it a big deal. _You know I miss you._ Is she telling him? Should he tell her? Doesn’t she already know how much he missed her? Why is it a million degrees in here? Is he sweating through his suit? Can he sweat through his suit? God he should have left. He’s happy he didn’t though.

She intertwines her hands in his and pulls them onto her lap. Her feet kick out to make the swing sway and the side of her body is warm against his. The wind blows softly across the yard and meets them, making her move even closer to him. She looks up at him and then of course it happens.

Sam shows up, porch door banging against the frame, two glass bottles clinking in his hand. “Look Pepper didn’t mean anything okay. It wasn’t meant to be rude.” Sam’s a million years too late or too early or too something. All Bucky knows is that Sam needs to get lost now.

It doesn’t matter though; the moment is gone. His hands are left alone and she’s back on her feet, grabbing a beer from Sam’s hand. She’s upset and riled up and Sam did all of this. Is she embarrassed to be caught with him out here holding hands?

Bucky is embarrassed but not because of her. But because she thinks she needs to apologize to him when really it’s all his fault. He stands up and grabs the other beer out of Sam’s hands before he can drink it himself. It won’t do much to Bucky, but at least it gives him something to do with his hands.

“You’re both wrong, you know,” Sam says plainly. She and Bucky continue to sip, unwilling to give Sam any encouragement to keep going. Bucky follows her back inside, but Sam follows along too. “You both are convinced you’re in the wrong and the other person is perfect. That’s why you’re perfect for each other.”

Bucky from seven years ago probably would’ve thrown the empty bottle at Sam’s head. He’d catch it no problem, but he’d get the message too. Bucky from today just sets the bottle down on a table and glares at Sam.

Sam gets that Bucky isn’t going to be convinced, so he turns to her. “Look I know you don’t believe in like the concept of love or whatever, but” she tries to cut him off. “Nope, not done yet. Listen to me. I know you don’t believe in love, but I just want you to know that I’m rooting for you two.”

“Ugh not this again Sam! It didn’t work out! Can’t you just let it go and let us be friends?” Bucky would say the exact same thing so why do her words hurt him? He would be fine being friends with her, right? Maybe if that’s really what she wants.

“No I can’t,” Sam tells her sounding very stern. Sam takes the now empty bottle out of her hands before she does something reckless with it. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands and Bucky feels bad for her, at least he has pockets.

She lets Sam take the bottle, but not without mocking him first. “What, is that your Cap voice?” She imitates him poorly in a deep voice that sounds nothing like any version of Captain America has ever sounded like. “No I can’t do that in the name of justice. Step away vagabond, I’ve got a lady to save from the perils of immorality!”

Sam sighs, “some things don’t change. Which is why,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “I’m still waiting for you to figure out that you’re perfect for each other.” He walks away before she can or Bucky can get another word in. Great, Steve might not be here to badger him, but Sam has clearly taken the role seriously.

Bucky waits for her to follow Sam, but she doesn’t. She looks at him for a long moment and her eyes blaze with intensity. Sam triggered something in her. He didn’t mean to, Bucky’s sure if it, but he did it all the same.

“Anyway,” she says changing the conversation. “You know Pippi Longstocking?” She’s started pacing the floor in her high heels and Bucky wonders if he should walk alongside her if she trips. But no, that would only lead to her stepping on his toes and possibly kicking him for being too close.

“Uh no,” he tells her, half forgetting the question she had just asked him. She continues pacing and talking, mostly to herself in a long ramble that Bucky tries his best to listen. He’s never heard of this Peppa and he’s not sure where this story is going, but he’ll try his best to follow along.

“Well she's like a kid’s character in these books and she is super strong and super cool, and she's got bright red hair in two braids like this.” She shows him with her own handfuls of hair. “So I used to read these books about Pippi and these two kids that hang out with her.”

She pauses for a moment and Bucky wonders if he should stop her or just let her keep going. “Tommy and a girl. I can’t remember her fucking name, but it doesn’t matter. Pippi is all kinds of awesome. I think my mother saw a lot of Pippi in me as a child.” Bucky wonders if this is where this is going and that she’ll talk about her mother, but it doesn’t go in that direction for long.

“She probably hoped that I would put my energy to good use or something. But the thing is I never saw myself in Pippi.” She’s running out of breath a bit, but now it’s too late to stop her. “I wanted to be the little girl. She was sweet and demure and always afraid. But best yet, she was pretty.”

“And yeah I was a messy kid with ratty hair like Pippi, but I wanted to be the other girl, Annie maybe.” She’s still pacing furiously, but now Bucky does stay within an arm’s reach. There’s a few decorative rugs on the floor and Bucky’s doesn’t want her tripping.

“And I mean the shy girl becomes more rambunctious with time, but she’s still like the baby I guess. And so yeah, I still am looking for that I guess? I mean don’t get me wrong I’ve been more like Pippi probably.” Bucky's not familiar with the character but from what little he's heard it seems fitting. Strong and awesome and all kinds of energy being put towards plenty of goodness. 

“I was the only girl on my high school robotics team, and I’ve had to break up the boys club at MIT, at work, and even here, although I do appreciate the help,” she gestures to Bucky, but he gets the feeling she’s not meaning him at all. He had no idea she went to MIT. The robotics team too? Maybe that’s why she was so close with Parker.

“But I still date the worst guys. And I absolutely let them use me. But I don’t really mind it because then I get to be Annika. That’s her name! Annika! I get to be the cute, sweet girl who doesn’t make a fuss.” She pauses to catch her breath a bit and Bucky reaches out an arm to steady her.

“I don’t get it,” Bucky admits to her. “What’s wrong with being like Pippi? She seems cool?” He wishes he knew something better to say, but he’s coming up blank. There’s still a couple of ways this conversation could go, but truth be told Bucky’s pretty bad at predicting these things anyway.

She shrinks down into herself. “Because everyone loves Annika, Buck.” She looks as if she did live those horrible five years that Bucky keeps hearing about. “Everyone likes Annika. Everyone loves her. Everyone wants to be with someone like her. No one wants someone who can lift a car and is friends with pirates.”

“What are you trying to say?” Bucky asks, gesturing at his own metal arm, hoping to diffuse some of the tension building in this room, inside of her.

She sighs, “I don’t know, Betty.” Her voice is so small, Bucky doesn’t know what to do. “You don’t like me like this, and I know it. No one does. Cause I can be like Pippi sometimes. I can be strong and brave and loud and colorful, but most of the time I’m this. I’m not Pippi and I’m definitely not Annika. No one wants this.”

Bucky feels bad. He isn’t as familiar with this side of her, but it’s just as real as the other. He wants to understand it; he wants to love it. He’s just not sure how. If only he had been more open all those years ago. If he was better at letting her know that he liked all of her.

“I go up and I go down and when I’m up I feel like I can do fucking anything. I can beat up three guys on the side of the road in the middle of the night. I can dance with you in the middle of a club and not piss off my date. I can tell you this story that makes no sense and have you understand every word.” Her voice has gone emotional, and she clings to Bucky’s arm, bunching the material of the suit up in her fists.

“And then when I’m back down again I just want to go back up. I want to fake it. I want to be her. I want to feel like I can do anything and be anything, but I can’t.” It’s all spilling out of her now and Bucky lets it happen, patiently listening.

“And I’ve gotten so much better at staying in the middle, but sometimes the meds just aren’t quite right, and I don’t know what to do. Do I go to my doctor to have them adjust it in a way that might hurt me even more, or do I just live with it and hope it gets better?” Bucky has no idea how to answer that question. It’s one that he himself has dealt with a few times now and it’s always a tricky place to be.

“Am I happy that you’re here or am I just manic? Am I sad that I can’t have you forever or am I just depressed? I can’t tell anymore. I never could.” She steps backwards and leans against the wall, the contact with him gone. Bucky knows he should speak, but maybe it’s Thor’s drink catching up to him. Or maybe it’s just the fear again.

They’re quiet for too long. “Well I’m going to head out,” she tells him pulling her phone out of his suit pocket. Her touch is gone in an instant. “It was nice seeing everyone, please tell them I said that?” He ensures that he will pass on her message and he watches her leave. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Wrabel's Poetry.
> 
> Probably should have retitled it to be a line from Taylor Swift's Betty but I guess that shows you how long ago I really did start writing this. When I started writing Something Stupid in December a lot of the scenes were mixed in with scenes that eventually ended up in Nothing More. I knew that if I was going to make Bucky sing along to You Can Call Me Al then I had to also tie in Betty! It worked out so much better than I could have ever planned!
> 
> On another note.. people grieve in all sorts of ways and one way is the "I want everyone to have fun at the memorial" while the other people are in the "I'm still really sad and not ready for this" mindset. It's been two years since Pepper lost Tony, but in my mind she's really struggling so this is what you get...
> 
> On a happier note Sam is happily taking over the role of Cap and that includes convincing Bucky to go after the girl! 
> 
> On yet another note because I feel like this chapter is weird and also I'm writing this very late at night... the Pippi Longstocking bit is super weird but that's kind of the point? If you don't get it that's okay cause neither does Bucky and just like Bucky you just have to deal with it ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


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